Fair Wind Or Foul
by Ildera
Summary: The sequel to A Silver Doubloon takes off right where I left you . . . Our heroes are on the trail of adventure, but what awaits them beyond the horizon? It's over guys, the end is nigh!
1. Learning Curve

Yes, it's the sequel to 'A Silver Doubloon'. I'm not so cruel as to leave you all hanging like that - honest! Anyway, as before, I own nothing. Absolutely nothing, it all belongs to Walt Disney and Ted Elliot and those lovely people who made the film in the first place. Right?  
  
*~*~*  
  
Fair Wind Or Foul  
  
*~*~*  
  
Commodore James Norrington leant back against the bulkhead in his cabin aboard the Black Pearl, massaging his hands gently. He winced as his fingers passed over blisters that seemed to be taking forever to heal. They were two weeks out of Port Royale, and he now fully understood why the life of a common seaman had never appealed to him. His blisters had blisters, and no matter where he went, be it in the rigging or below decks, he always managed to hit his head off something.  
  
Still there was an upside to his learning curve. He wasn't the only one suffering. Marin had taken both him and Harry, the new cabin boy, under her wing, teaching them both the rudiments of sailing right from day one. According to the crew she was a fair taskmaster as well, though James failed to see how making someone scrub the deck in the midday sun was fair.  
  
He smiled as he thought of his cousin, still elated by the thought that he had any family left at all. And, as always, on the heels of that elation came sorrow, a deep and abiding sadness, for what they had both lost. The man who had brought them together, a cousin in his own right, lay slumbering beneath the ocean's wave, ripped from his new-found family by the cold hand of death.  
  
James sighed softly, leaning back on his bunk. It had been an interesting year, he mused, letting his mind cast back over the events that had brought him here. His fingers toyed with the locket that hung about his neck, large and ornate, four interlocking rings embossed in silver. It was what had set him on this course. One of four, he had been made aware of the other three through an old adversary, though now he could call Jack Sparrow nothing other than a friend and a good man.  
  
Now two of the cousins who had guarded the secret of the treasure lay dead, and he and Marin were after what was left to them by their family. Jack could hardly be called upon to stay behind while his own wife went treasure seeking, and they needed the Pearl, so he too had come along. And Will Turner had been gifted the secret keeper's locket by way of thanks for his services, so the Red Dragon drifted alongside the Pearl, bound for the island that sheltered their inheritance.  
  
James grinned, wincing again as he accidentally put pressure on his wounded hands. He hadn't expected the crew to have accepted him as quickly as they did. It had taken him only three days to be brought into the forecastle, and Harry a further two before he could join them. Solomon had been watching him apparently, and knew all about the sores that were developing on his hands. When James hadn't mentioned it, Solomon had, telling the other pirates, and they had brought him into their group, teaching him how to protect his hands and clear up the sores quickly.  
  
Jack hadn't been giving him orders so much as suggesting that he help Marin, an attitude that had helped with his adjustment to being just one of the men. To his surprise he had found that the fraternity of sailors on board a ship were far more accepting of one's faults and weaknesses than a ward-room or officer's mess, where one mistake could cost your standing among them. Gibbs had also taken the younger man under his wing, and they could often be found just talking quietly together beneath the stars.  
  
There was a knock on the door, and it swung in. Marin slipped into the room, holding a jar and a cloth. She smiled at his expression, her steely grey eyes twinkling with mischief as he shot upright to greet her.  
  
'Please don't put that on me again,' he pleaded, quiet enough so whoever was outside the cabin could not hear him.  
  
'I have to,' she told him. 'Otherwise your skin won't harden enough to be able to take the storms we'll encounter.'  
  
James sighed, sitting down on his bunk with a resigned expression. She moved to sit beside him, taking his hands in hers as she examined the extent of the damage he had done to them. He hissed as she poked at the blisters, scowling at her deliberately painful prodding. He could feel the calluses on her hands, the hardened skin that betrayed the years she had spent at sea, and was comforted by the thought that she, and Jack, and all the others had been through this as well.  
  
He studied her as she worked, seeing the changes wrought on his little cousin by the events that had brought them both here. When he had met her, only a few months before, she had been a bright carefree young pirate lass, fiercely devoted to her captain, the notorious Elias Fitzpatrick. The months had taken their toll, first filling her with joy at having found blood kin once more in Elias and James, then heart-wrenching sorrow in losing the old captain to the ocean's embrace. There was a worn maturity about her pretty face, though he was still unsure if that had not come about as a result of her marriage to the infamous Jack Sparrow.  
  
Marin poured a little of the foul concoction onto the cloth, holding his hand still in a tight hold as she opened the blisters and scrubbed the mixture into the wounds. She heard him bite back a low cry of pain, wishing she could be a little more gentle with him, but knowing if she wasn't rough, he would never grow used to climbing the ropes.  
  
'I swear this gets more painful every time,' he muttered, holding out the other hand for her to minister to.  
  
She smiled gently, concentrating on his palms as his fingers flexed in pain. He had learnt a lot in two weeks, more than she had expected him to pick up in such a short time. Marin was more proud of her cousin than she could express, the way he had handled his new duties with hardly a word. He had not complained about any of the work until a few days before, when he had been assured that it was alright to complain, as long as you did what you were supposed to when you were asked.  
  
He seemed so very tired though, obviously unused to such hard labour on a day to day basis, but determined to pull his weight. Gibbs had drawn her to one side that day, and told her in no uncertain terms to make sure James slept. The last thing he wanted was a sailor too knackered to perform his duties.  
  
Her fingers gently traced his ravaged palms, the soft caress drawing some of the pain she had just inflicted back out. She smiled up at him, seeing all the signs Gibbs had told her of.  
  
'How are you, James?' she asked softly.  
  
He grimaced.  
  
'In pain,' he said pointedly, smiling when she laughed. 'No better or worse than usual, Marin, stop fussing. I'm not sleeping too well, but aside from that I'm fine.'  
  
She looked into his bloodshot eyes with a particularly piercing look.  
  
'Why aren't you sleeping?' she pressed.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
'I suppose I just haven't got used to the irregular hours yet,' he brushed off her concern.  
  
Marin held his gaze a while longer before releasing his hands.  
  
'Well, you should try to get some rest,' she told him, rising to her feet as he lay back on his bunk with an audible sigh. 'We passed the last of the islands today, so from here on in, it's open seas.'  
  
He gave her a no-nonsense look.  
  
'I know that, Marin,' he said wearily.  
  
She held his look for a long moment, seeing what he did not wish anyone to see. Marin smiled gently, sinking down onto the bunk beside him once more.  
  
'She loves you, James,' she said softly.  
  
His eyes widened as she spoke, shocked that he was so easy for her to read. Her look was full of love and understanding, and he found himself nodding helplessly as she took his hand.  
  
'I should never have asked her to wait,' he muttered, passing a hand across his eyes. 'She deserves better than me.'  
  
Marin's fingers tightened on his, gently chiding him for such thoughts.  
  
'That doesn't matter,' she told him firmly. 'Laura chose you, and she'll wait for you as long as it takes.'  
  
James grimaced in an attempt to keep the ache he felt from being away from his love showing. Laura Blythe, Elizabeth Turner's cousin, had stolen his heart from him in the space of only a few weeks. He had not had the courage to ask for her hand before they left for Cape Horn, and so spent almost every night dreaming of her beautiful face, wet with tears for him as he took his farewell from her. She had sworn she would wait for him, even if there were no hope of his return, and he had taken her oath gladly, but now James could not help but feel that he had condemned her to a life of misery and heart-break. There was no guarantee that any of them would return from this trip and he berated himself constantly for taking her oath so blithely.  
  
'It was unfair of me to ask her, though,' he insisted.  
  
'Not half as unfair as you making yourself miserable over something done and dusted,' Marin told him archly, and he glanced up with a frown to find her gazing at him with that oddly piercing look she sometimes wore. He sighed, chuckling wearily as she smiled down at him.  
  
'Sleep, James,' she said gently. 'You need to rest easy. If I can take marriage to Jack, you can definitely wait a few months to be reunited with a woman who adores you.'  
  
She drew the blanket up about his shoulders as he turned to the bulkhead, sighing softly as he sought the sweet oblivion of sleep.  
  
Slipping quietly from her cousin's side, Marin wandered back up on deck, winking at Harry where he sat, entangled in the rigging, as the men began to exchange their late night stories before retiring to the forecastle. The men on watch stared out across the sea, nodding to her as she passed, making her way to the great cabin.  
  
Jack sat at the large table, charts spread out in front of him as he worked out the bearings for the next day. Marin smiled, quietly pouring him a glass of rum to replace the empty bottle he clutched in one hand. He didn't look up as she placed it in his hand, removing the bottle.  
  
'Thanks, love,' he said vaguely, taking a long gulp as she moved away.  
  
His finger traced a trail she couldn't follow across the chart, charting the bearings they would follow the next day should the wind remain the same. Marin had never learnt navigation, had never had the inclination to, but wished she could at least understand some of what the captain did as he pondered over his charts.  
  
She lit another candle, taking it with her to the window and looking out across the moonlit ocean. Knowing Jack wouldn't be done for at least another half hour, Marin curled up on the ledge that lay beside the window, her face close to the glass as she let herself feel at one with the sea once more.  
  
She had almost lost the sense of oneness that she had always felt with the ocean during those long months ashore. In a very real sense, as Elias had been her father, the sea had been her mother, nurturing and teaching her, watching her grow to maturity. The love she felt for the sea was the same as the love felt the world over by men who had chosen a life on the waves over a life on land. She had never met a sailor who didn't understand her attachment to the ocean.  
  
Jack was one such man, she knew. His heart would never be completely hers, shared between the ocean he loved, the ship he adored, and her, the woman he had chosen for his own. Marin frowned. She was still unsure as to why he had decided to marry her. Oh, she knew all about James' sneaky manipulation of her husband, his threat to marry her off to another, but she knew for a fact that he would never have done so. Jack wasn't a fool, so he must have known, too, that such a threat could never be carried out on the ward of Elias Fitzpatrick.  
  
So why had he married her? He had the ocean and his Pearl, he had his freedom. Why had he chosen to burden himself with a wife? His promise to Elias aside, what was in it for him? Companionship, perhaps. She smiled, remembering the whores he had brushed off in Port Royale. He could have companionship whenever he wanted, she knew. Marin had known the name of Jack Sparrow long before meeting him, from her friendship with the whores of Tortuga among others. He was definitely a favourite among them.  
  
She shook her head, knowing it was pointless to pursue these thoughts. They would only upset her, make her feel less than what she was. She was his wife, Jack had sworn to be faithful and loving to her until the day they were parted by the eternal sleep. But still, she couldn't help but question his motives for keeping her by his side.  
  
Warm breath on her neck made her jump, glancing up with startled eyes into Jack's amused grin.  
  
'Didn't mean to scare you,' he said quietly, settling himself beside her to gaze out at the ocean.  
  
His arm curled about her waist, drawing her close as he rested his chin on her shoulder, blowing stray tendrils of her hair out of his face. His other hand slipped around her to hold her fingers gently, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.  
  
Marin sighed contentedly, letting herself relax into his embrace.  
  
'All done then?' she asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peace that surrounded them by raising her voice.  
  
Jack kissed her neck lightly before answering, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.  
  
'Yeah,' he murmured. 'If wind and current hold true, we should make good time tomorrow.'  
  
'Good,' she sighed.  
  
Jack shifted a little, moving himself into a more comfortable position without letting go of her at all.  
  
'How is James coping with the painful pleasure of sailing?' he asked her, his tone amused, though she knew that he was almost as proud as her of the commodore's progress.  
  
'Better than most people,' Marin muttered drowsily. 'He's not said a word about the blisters on his hands, and they're horrendous. No wonder Solomon's taken to him so quick.'  
  
Jack grinned, watching her head roll back against his shoulder from the corner of his eye. She looked so sleepy, he thought, wondering what on earth she could have been doing to knacker herself out so.  
  
The ship rolled gently, rocking them back and forth in one another's arms as they gazed out at the moonlit vista. Jack smiled to himself, knowing that if Marin were not here, he would be on deck. The crew seemed so much more comfortable with him now that he had concerns other than them, and he realised belatedly that a captain who took a personal interest in his crew's day to day gripes was probably a pain in the arse.  
  
He glanced around his cabin, seeing the little touches that told him Marin had made her home here. The coat that lay atop his on one of the chairs, the sea chest that stood beside his own, the better quality linen on his bunk. That was one improvement he definitely couldn't argue with. Nights were far less itchy in the bedding his wife had insisted on having. The sense he had expected of having his privacy invaded with her being here hadn't appeared. It felt right to have her living in his cabin with him, sharing every aspect of his life, his days as well as his nights.  
  
A soft sigh drifted to his ear, blowing cool air against his cheek. He turned his head, finding his wife fast asleep against him, her gentle breathing shallow and regular. Jack smiled, blowing out the candle she held still and putting it to one side. He lifted her gently into his arms, whispering softly to her as she hovered between waking and sleeping, murmuring her apologies for drifting off.  
  
He laid her carefully on the bunk, tugging her boots from her feet and removing all her weapons as she nestled into the bedding with another gentle sigh. He smiled down at her momentarily before moving to extinguish the other candles about the cabin, and preparing himself to lie beside her.  
  
He crawled into the sheets, wrapping an arm about Marin as she stirred herself enough to make room for him on the tiny bunk. Her arms slipped trustingly around his waist as he lay back, tenderly making circles with his fingers on the small of her back. Jack bent down, kissing her red hair as he drew the blanket over them both.  
  
'Goodnight, love,' he murmured, relaxing back and listening to the soft sigh of her breathing as he, too, drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle motion of the rolling ship.  
  
*~*~*  
  
As ever, you know the score . . . and those who've read Doubloon will know that reviews really do make me write faster! *hopeless smile* Point and click on the little blue button? 


	2. Don't Argue

Jack stood proudly at the helm of his ship, one hand on the wheel, enjoying the feel of the wind as it ruffled his hair. His dark eyes were trained thoughtfully on a rising bank of grey cloud approaching them from the east. He'd already signalled to Will that a storm was coming and had received a very imaginative insult via the signal flags, given that no curse word had ever been translated into a signal by any navy the world over, along the lines of 'I know what I'm doing, thank you very much'.  
  
A soft smile appeared on his face as he glanced over his ship, his gaze passing over the sailors to return to the contemplation of his wife where she sat with young Harry. The lad had taken a tumble from the fighting top a couple of days beforehand, almost breaking his leg when he landed. Luckily for him, though, he had landed on Cotton, who had been hanging about beneath him just in case he fell anyway.  
  
Jack watched Marin carefully as she spoke softly with their cabin boy. She'd been in a peculiar mood as of late, somewhat pensive and almost sorrowful when she had moments to herself. He'd seen her running her hand over the Pearl with an oddly bitter smile, only to set her shoulders and wipe the unpleasant expression from her face. Not able to convince himself to confront her about her moods, Jack had let her be, trying to wait until she chose to tell him what it was that bothered her.  
  
He was roused from his thoughts by Gibbs, who wandered to his side, his own eyes on his captain's young wife.  
  
'The lass has something on her mind, there's no mistaking it,' he said, ignoring the withering look he received for this statement of the blindingly obvious. 'Maybe she needs to talk about it.'  
  
Jack rolled his eyes.  
  
'Gibbs, are you trying to tell me to go and talk to my own wife?' he asked.  
  
The stocky first mate frowned, straightening his shoulders.  
  
'Me? I'd never presume to tell me captain anything,' he protested, adding, 'But the cousin is getting a little concerned.'  
  
The cousin. Jack sighed, glancing over at James where he sat, also watching Marin, though not as openly as the two men by the helm. Having the dear commodore aboard was a mixed blessing, he'd decided. On the one hand, it meant that James and Marin were growing closer, becoming more like a real family every day, and on the other hand, it meant Jack had to watch what he said to his wife in front of her cousin in case he took offence on her behalf. It was a tricky business being married.  
  
'So what you're saying is I should go and talk to her, but you'll not tell me to,' he said pointedly.  
  
Gibbs pondered this for a moment, before nodding.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
Jack gave him a long look, before his gaze returned, inevitably, to Marin.  
  
'Thing is, mate, I don't want to venture into anything when I don't have even an inkling of the cause,' he admitted candidly, knowing if anyone could tell him that, it would be Gibbs. No matter what had been said where, Gibbs knew about it the morning after at the very latest.  
  
'Well, ordinarily I'd be happy to tell ye, Jack,' he said awkwardly. 'But I'm afraid this could be something ye've got to work through yerself.'  
  
Jack turned incredulous eyes on his first mate.  
  
'You mean you're not going to even hint at anything?' he said, absolutely aghast at the thought of entering a conversation with no knowledge of what would be said. 'Nothing at all?'  
  
Gibbs nodded.  
  
'Look, I'm fond of both of yer,' he said placatingly. 'I'm not going to put either friendship in the brig over getting involved in something that's just between ye two.'  
  
He winced, and Jack knew he'd given something away.  
  
'Just between us, eh?' he mused. 'I wonder . . .'  
  
His kohl-rimmed eyes returned to Marin to find her leaning against the side, gazing out across the ocean towards the clouds that were growing ever closer. He hated to see her melancholy, he realised, especially now Gibbs had mentioned that it was at least partially his fault. He nudged his first mate.  
  
'Take the helm, would you, mate?'  
  
With a quick nod, Gibbs took his place at the wheel, at the same time glaring at any stray members of the crew to warn them to stay away from the captain and his lass for the time being.  
  
Jack sauntered down to where his wife stood, unable to resist wrapping his arm about her so she couldn't turn to face him, but had to give in to his nuzzling at her neck. Marin laughed, a little half-heartedly, as the braids in his beard tickled her skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips as he tasted her. He pulled back a little, laying his chin on her shoulder.  
  
'You alright there, love?'  
  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew this was the wrong way to go about getting the answer he wanted. Jack suppressed the urge to correct himself, waiting for her to reply.  
  
She sighed softly, never once taking her eyes from the ocean.  
  
'I'm fine, Jack,' she murmured, not sounding at all convinced in herself that this was the right answer.  
  
Jack tightened his arms about her, drawing her closer.  
  
'Are you sure, love?' he asked. 'Only you've been away with the fairies a fair bit the last few days.'  
  
Marin smiled faintly, amused by his description of her dark thoughts. She had not been able to shake the feeling of jealousy that surged through her whenever she saw Jack gaze out at the sea, or run a gentle hand across the timbers of his ship. Where did she fit in his heart, with two such established rivals?  
  
'It's nothing for you to worry about,' she told him, lying through her teeth and hoping he wouldn't notice.  
  
Her hopes went unanswered. Jack turned her about in his arms, lifting her chin to look into her steely grey eyes.  
  
'Elias never told you what a bad liar you are, did he?' he asked her gently, an amused glow lighting up his dark eyes. 'You blush whenever you tell a falsehood, did you know that?'  
  
Marin rolled her eyes in dismay.  
  
'No, I didn't know that,' she muttered, unable to raise her eyes to his at this unexpected revelation.  
  
He smiled fondly down at her, brushing his fingers across her cheek as the flush faded slowly.  
  
'It's sweet,' he murmured, lifting her chin once more. 'Tell me what's wrong, love, please.'  
  
Marin sighed again, just as softly as before, but with a more sorrowful note as she let her feelings show in her face.  
  
'I've had a few things on my mind, that's all, Jack,' she told him. 'I'll get over it.'  
  
Jack held her gaze for a while, his eyes burning into hers as he searched for what he should say next.  
  
'Anything you want to talk about?' he asked. 'Something I could help with?'  
  
She smiled sadly up at him, letting him kiss her forehead gently before she turned away again.  
  
'Maybe,' she murmured.  
  
They fell silent once more, both gazing out across the water in near identical states of agitation. Jack wanted so much to make things better for his wife, but without knowing the source of her obvious unhappiness, he couldn't do much to cheer her. Still, at least she had admitted that there was something wrong. It was a start.  
  
'Why did you marry me?' Marin asked suddenly, turning to face him with clear eyes.  
  
Jack blinked slowly, excruciatingly aware that, as soon as she said that, all intelligent thought had fled his brain. Frowning, his mouth worked for a moment before he blurted out the first thing that came into his head.  
  
'I promised,' he said. 'Elias. I promised old Fitz that I'd look after you.'  
  
Marin shook her head.  
  
'You didn't have to marry me to do that,' she told him calmly. 'And we both know that James would never have made good on his threats, so that's not the reason either. Why, Jack?'  
  
Desperation warred with panic in his mind as he sought for an answer that would satisfy her. For some reason, the words he so wanted to say were hiding in the recesses of his mind, refusing to come out. Now, why now of all times did he have to lose his grasp on exactly what he felt for her? There was no way he could come out and say it, she'd think he was making excuses. He groped for the only other reason he could think of.  
  
'There's always the treasure,' he said off-hand.  
  
Marin's expression hardened, her eyes turning to unforgiving flint under his gaze. She tensed, stepping out of his arms with a tight smile.  
  
'The treasure,' she said slowly. 'Of course. No self-respecting pirate would do anything that didn't offer a profit to him.'  
  
Jack, thinking he was home and dry, shrugged carelessly, grinning down at her with only the slightest hint of worry.  
  
'Well, it's the code, innit?' he said brightly.  
  
She held his gaze, radiating icy hatred from her core.  
  
'So that's the reason you married me, is it?' she asked, her voice brittle with hurt and disappointment. 'For profit? For my family's gold?'  
  
Jack held up his hand, sensing the sudden hostility between them with the air of a man who knows he is about to be slapped.  
  
'That's not what I meant,' he started, but she cut him off.  
  
'Isn't it?' she spat. 'You are the best pirate the Caribbean has ever known, why shouldn't you marry for profit? It fits perfectly with your character. Tell me, Jack, just when were you planning on saying something? Before or after you broke with me for the gold?'  
  
Jack sighed, grimacing as he realised the damage he had done with a single panicked sentence.  
  
'Marin -'  
  
Her hand cut him off, smacking against his cheek with a resounding crack. He reeled backwards, his head spinning. No matter how many times he was slapped, it never ceased to surprise him.  
  
'What was that for?' he protested.  
  
She glared at him, uncaring that most of the crew was witness to this argument.  
  
'You know what!' she snapped. 'I can't believe I let myself get in so deep with you!'  
  
'Now hold on,' Jack grasped her arm, preventing her from turning away. 'Will you let me explain?'  
  
Marin's tone was back to the scathing cadence she had used in their first words together, all those months before.  
  
'I don't know, are you able to?'  
  
He glared down at her, somehow as angry as she was, though he had no idea why. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw James standing off to one side, his expression strangely neutral.  
  
'Last time I tried, you slapped me,' he said calmly, letting her go as she wrenched her arm from his grip.  
  
'Twice,' Marin told him.  
  
He frowned, confused.  
  
'Once,' he corrected her, and realised his mistake almost at once.  
  
The second slap was a lot harder than the first, and sent him stumbling sideways into several members of the crew who had unwisely stood just that bit closer than the others.  
  
'Don't argue!' she snapped at him, turning on her heel and stalking away, down onto one of the lower decks.  
  
Jack stared after her, shocked. He hadn't realised that one simple mistake could upset someone so much. Or that his little wife could get so angry so quickly. He glanced about at the crew where they stood around, staring at him in barely concealed horror.  
  
'Alright, you lot!' he barked, quickly assuming the role of captain once more. 'Show's over! Storm coming, get on with it!'  
  
They hurried to obey him, no one wanting to cross the captain after what they had just seen. James slipped past him, intending to clamber up into the rigging as the ship began to pitch in waves that grew increasingly rough. Jack grasped his arm.  
  
'What's wrong with her?' he asked the other man.  
  
James looked down at him with something approaching sympathy.  
  
'I don't know,' he said truthfully. 'But then, I'm not her husband.'  
  
Letting him go, Jack swore, clambering up the stairs to the poop. Whatever was wrong would have to wait until after the storm to be resolved, he thought. And hope to God no one got hurt. 


	3. The Ocean's Embrace

Lightning flashed brilliantly across the sky, illuminating the two ships as they struggled through the crashing waves. Pitching and tossing through valleys and across crests, they plunged through the storm, both captains at the helm as they fought to retain control of their ships.  
  
Aboard the Red Dragon, Will Turner held tightly to his wheel, listening as the old lady creaked and groaned under the forces exerting such pressures on her. The crew stumbled all around him, securing this rope, fastening that sail, endeavouring with every ounce of strength in their bodies to remain on board. Any man lost overboard tonight would stay lost, they knew.  
  
In the great cabin, Elizabeth braced herself in the bunk, her son cradled tightly to her. His little face was screwed up in misery as he screamed out his dislike of what was happening. As the ship tossed about on the billowy waves, Elizabeth huddled against a bulkhead, forcing a smile for the tiny boy.  
  
'Shhh, Matthew, shhh,' she crooned softly. 'My brave boy doesn't need to cry. There's nothing to be afraid of . . .'  
  
On deck above her there came an almighty crash, and her heart leapt into her mouth. She could not shake the constant fear that Will was lost or injured, and she in here, relatively safe from the dangers of the storm. Matthew's cries filled her ears, and she returned her attention to him, trying to soothe the terrified child as her own heart thumped an irregular rhythm of age old fears within her.  
  
Waves swept across the deck, knocking men's feet out from under them and soaking them through with the icy saltwater they spent their lives trying to tame. Will scrambled to his feet, shouting for Hopkins to come to him as he struggled to return the rudder to its original position. The old first mate slid over to him, his bare feet seeking non-existent purchase on the slippery deck.  
  
'Drop canvas!' Will shouted over the howling of the wind. 'We'll ride this one out!'  
  
Hopkins nodded, turning to repeat the order as the crew scrambled into the rigging to obey. He turned back to his youthful captain, wiping the water from his face with a gnarled hand.  
  
'What of the Pearl, cap'n?' he roared.  
  
Will peered through the wind and rain to where the Black Pearl could just be seen, plunging down into the valleys between waves with a ferocity matched only be the storm.  
  
'We'll find her when the storm blows out!' he told his first mate, trying to quell the fears within him that she may not be in sight when such a time came.  
  
Hopkins read this on his captain's face, reaching out to grip the younger man's arm through the sodden sleeve. Will nodded, taking the reassurance gladly as his crew fought to follow his order against the will of the elements. He could only hope Jack didn't mean to fight all night.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The sailors of the Black Pearl pulled together, pooling their strength as they weathered the storm with practised distaste. The cold was biting, the wind icy against their wet clothes, but they would not give up until the order was given. The fact that most of them felt the order should already have been given was beside the point. No one dared to approach the captain after witnessing Marin's outburst earlier that day.  
  
James clung to the main mast, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the ropes below him. The rain and spray obscured his vision, the wind threatening to pull him from his precarious perch at any moment. It was with great relief that he hooked his feet into the rigging, relaxing his death grip on the wooden spar that had been all that stood between him and the ocean's embrace.  
  
As he slid and slipped down the soaked ropes, he found Marin at his side, tendrils of her hair plastered to her face and neck as it was whipped about in the storm. She gave him a terse smile, keeping pace with him as they descended to the deck amid the crashing and howling.  
  
'Don't you think we should be dropping canvas by now?' he asked her, shouting to be heard.  
  
She nodded, shrugging as she gestured towards Jack.  
  
'He's not about to, though,' she replied, falling down under the weight of a wave that crashed over them.  
  
Gibbs slithered past, reaching down to lift her to her feet as James staggered backwards with the roll of the ship. His grizzled face was set in an angry mask.  
  
'Yer husband's a damned fool at times,' he told her, making sure she had her feet before letting go. 'He says she can hold a while longer, but I don't think she can! There's too much risk of losing a mast if we stay on like this!'  
  
Marin's eyes widened.  
  
'But Jack loves the Pearl, he'd never do anything that would put her in harm's way!' she protested.  
  
Gibbs gave her a long look, grasping at a rope to keep his feet as the ship pitched forward once again.  
  
'Aye, when he's thinking straight!' he said, stumbling away to help the others as they struggled to ease the pressure on the mast.  
  
Marin turned to James, frowning in confusion.  
  
'What did he mean, when he's thinking straight?' she demanded.  
  
Her cousin shrugged, looking pointedly over at where Jack stood firm at the helm, somehow keeping his feet despite the instability of the deck. Marin followed his gaze, and saw for herself the anger glittering in her husband's eyes. She knew he would never put the Pearl in danger, not if he was in his right mind. She grimaced guiltily as she realised that it was her fault he wasn't thinking like a captain.  
  
Squaring her shoulders, she stumbled towards him, falling to her knees beneath yet another wave as it crashed over the deck. Shivering, her lips blue from the cold, she staggered to his side, forcing him to look at her as she placed her frozen hand over his.  
  
'We have to drop canvas!' she shouted to him. 'She can't take much more of this!'  
  
Sure enough, as if to emphasise her point, the Pearl gave an almighty creak, as though her timbers were being bent against one another as she fought to keep both sea and wind out. Jack glanced down at her, seeming to see right through her as she tried to keep her balance.  
  
'Please, Jack!' Marin pleaded. 'This isn't about us, it's about the Pearl! You're driving her too hard!'  
  
He looked away, this time up into the rigging where his crew struggled with ropes and sailcloth. Tears mixed with rainwater and salt-spray as Marin gripped his shirt.  
  
'Jack!'  
  
His gaze came back to her, and very deliberately he touched his cheek where she had slapped him only hours before. Shame filled her as he nodded curtly.  
  
'She can hold a bit longer,' he said, almost too quietly for her to hear. 'Go below, you're frozen.'  
  
Marin shook her head.  
  
'No, I'm staying out here with you!' she insisted.  
  
Jack lifted his free hand to cup her cheek, warming her frozen skin for just a moment.  
  
'Help James then,' he shouted over the roar of the ocean. 'Don't go into the rigging!'  
  
Nodding obediently, Marin scrambled to join her cousin where he stood feverishly securing ropes to timbers before his strength gave out. A huge wave crashed over the ship, momentarily engulfing her in bitterly cold water. When she could open her eyes, she found herself lying against the side, wet through, and James was nowhere in sight.  
  
She hauled herself to her feet, staring in horror into the waves below where she could see a forlorn figure battling against the waves as he struggled to keep his head above the water. A scream tore from her throat as she comprehended the danger to her cousin, the only link to Elias she had left.  
  
Hands pulled her roughly away from the side, and she looked up in time to see Jack dive down into the heaving water, a rope secured about his waist. He swam resolutely to James' side, wrapping the rope about the flailing man. As the crew hauled on the rope, another wave knocked them off their feet, obscuring their sight of everything. James struggled on board, and the rope was thrown out into the water for Jack to grab a hold of.  
  
Marin hauled her cousin down to his cabin, pressing hard on his chest to clear his lungs of water. He coughed, turning onto his side to throw up as the shock of his experience hit him mercilessly. Gently rubbing his back, Marin waited until he had stopped shaking, wrapping a blanket about his shivering form as he leant gratefully into her embrace. She manhandled him, none too gently, into his bunk, rubbing his legs to restore at least some feeling into them. James gripped her hand tightly, turning his face to the bulkhead to quell the sickness that welled up within him. As he mastered his nausea, the pressure on her hand decreased, and he let go.  
  
'Go back on deck,' he croaked. 'You're needed.'  
  
She frowned, rubbing his knuckles gently as she took in his pale face.  
  
'Are you sure you don't want me to stay?' she asked him, ignoring for a moment the worries that plagued her about Jack.  
  
He shook his head with a faint smile.  
  
'You wouldn't be all here anyway,' he laughed hoarsely, shooing her away and out onto the deck.  
  
Gibbs met her before she could venture out into the storm once more.  
  
'There's no call for ye to be venturing out once more tonight, lass,' he told her, dripping copious amounts of water onto the dry decking. 'Stay below and tend to young Jim. He'll need ye when he wakes.'  
  
Marin nodded, distracted by other thoughts.  
  
'Where's Jack?'  
  
Gibbs didn't meet her eyes, glancing out at the weather with a grimace.  
  
'We've dropped canvas,' he said. 'Should ride out the storm easily now.'  
  
'Yes, but where's Jack?' Marin asked him.  
  
He coughed awkwardly, looking her over in concern.  
  
'You should get changed, lass, you'll catch your death -'  
  
Marin grasped his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.  
  
'Gibbs, tell me,' she said firmly. 'Where's my husband?'  
  
The look in his eyes was enough to crush her heart. Cold numbing pain swept through her as he held her gaze, reaching out to hold her upright as the ship rolled and pitched with the storm.  
  
'I'm so sorry, Marin,' the old sailor said softly, and she believed he was. 'We couldn't find him. He's gone.'  
  
She stared at him, trying hard to understand what he was saying. He couldn't be, he couldn't be gone. She needed him . . . Gibbs' voice cut through her thoughts.  
  
'Marin? Are ye alright?'  
  
She glanced up, unseeing as he watched her.  
  
'Gone?' she asked quietly, small and alone in this suddenly cold world. Gibbs barely had time to reach out and catch her as her eyes rolled back in her head, her slender body slumping into his arms as she fell forwards in a dead faint.  
  
And outside, and all around them, the seas raged, and the storm blew, and a single man floated helpless between them, powerless to save himself from the ocean's embrace. 


	4. A Sight For Sore Eyes

My God, you all absolutely hate me! *sobs brokenly on desk* I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! *sniff*  
  
*~*~*  
  
She lay with her face to the bulkhead, not moving, not sleeping, not eating. Nestled in blankets that still smelt of him, she stared at the intricate carvings before her, trying to ignore the pain that would not let her be.  
  
He was gone. Jack, her husband, the only man she had ever loved . . . gone. Before she had had a chance to apologise for her appalling behaviour that day. He had died with the imprint of her hand still on her cheek, the memory of her anger fresh in his heart. She had never apologised, and now never would.  
  
No tears would come. Whereas for Elias, the grief had been brief and biting, this was cold, numb, dry. She could not stir herself to move, not to eat, not to drink. If she closed her eyes, all she saw was his face smiling down at her, no oblivion of sleep would come. There was no way to describe the desolation that filled her, ripping into her soul and tearing from her the last vestiges of happiness. He was gone.  
  
'Marin?'  
  
James knelt beside the bunk, disturbed by the sight of the meal they had left over three hours before untouched, and his cousin unchanged. He glanced up at Gibbs, worry written clearly over his features. The older man shrugged, gesturing for James to touch her.  
  
He laid his hand on her shoulder, hoping for at least some reaction, but there was nothing. She didn't even move to shake his hand off her. This would be so much easier if she was crying, he thought. He could deal with tears. But the silence and stillness frightened him more than he could say.  
  
'Marin, the Dragon is coming up on the starboard side,' he told the unmoving girl. 'Would you like to come on deck and greet them?'  
  
Again nothing, no sign that she even heard him. He squeezed her shoulder gently, wishing he had the courage to turn her about and hold her close to him. But most of all he wished he could make it all go away. It should have been him to die last night, not Jack. Marin did not deserve this pain, not on top of all she had suffered over the past year. But then, fate didn't always play fair, did it?  
  
There was a knock at the door. Harry slipped into the silent cabin, glancing from Gibbs to James to Marin, and back to Gibbs, conflicting emotions flickering across his young face.  
  
'Sir, the Dragon's pulling alongside, and Captain Turner is asking permission to come aboard,' he said, his soft accent lilting with the sadness they all felt following the loss of their own captain.  
  
Gibbs nodded, sending the lad back on deck without a word. He turned to James.  
  
'We should get up there,' he said quietly. 'Will and Elizabeth'll want to know what's happened.'  
  
James frowned, nodding in agreement as he looked back at his grieving cousin.  
  
'Will you come up with us?' he asked her, hoping for any response, even if she just swore at him.  
  
She didn't move, didn't speak, not even a sigh. Admitting defeat, he rose, gently kissing her temple before he left. There was no other way he could tell her how much he cared. He joined Gibbs at the door, and together the two men slipped out onto the main deck.  
  
'Not a peep out of her for seven hours,' Gibbs mused.  
  
James nodded gloomily.  
  
'And there's nothing we can do,' he muttered bitterly.  
  
He lashed out angrily, slamming his fist against the mast as they passed it.  
  
'It should have been me lost, not him!' he snapped, his eyes blazing with fury at the powers that be.  
  
Alarmed, Gibbs grasped his arm, pulling him away from the mast before he did himself an injury. He didn't notice the boarding plank thump into place as the Dragon secured herself alongside, too caught up in his former commander's grief.  
  
'Now, sir, you can't go blaming yerself,' he said soothingly. 'Twas not yer time to go.'  
  
A single tear rolled from beneath James' tightly closed eyelids as he fought to contain the raging emotion within him.  
  
'Marin doesn't deserve this,' he muttered, letting Gibbs' hands on his shoulders support and bolster him, drawing him up from his grief.  
  
'Aye, that she doesn't,' Gibbs agreed, glancing over the younger man's shoulder.  
  
His jaw dropped.  
  
'Mary, Mother of God, how did ye survive that?' he exclaimed.  
  
A very familiar voice answered him.  
  
'Well, mate, I roped a couple of sea turtles and rode them to the Dragon, where young William tempted me aboard with a large measure of rum. Savvy?'  
  
James turned incredulous eyes onto Captain Jack Sparrow, standing before him large as life, looking a little the worse for wear but definitely still there. Jack grinned at him.  
  
'You look like you've seen a ghost, mate,' he commented.  
  
Unable to speak for the unprecedented joy that coursed through him on seeing the irascible pirate once more, James grasped his hand, pulling the captain into a warm embrace. Surprised, Jack let himself be clapped on the back several times as James began to laugh, more relieved than he could express.  
  
'You're a sight for sore eyes, Jack,' he said warmly, still shaking the man's hand as he pulled back.  
  
Jack grinned again, his eyes a little wild from this unexpected welcome. He looked the other man over, checking for any signs of lasting damage from his rough retrieval from the ocean.  
  
'As are you, mate,' he shot back. 'You got back on board, I see?'  
  
James arched an eyebrow at this statement of the blindingly obvious.  
  
'No, I'm a figment of your deranged imagination,' he said acidly.  
  
Jack laughed.  
  
'Now that's the commodore I'm used to,' he chuckled. 'Good to see you well, Jim.'  
  
'James,' came the weary correction.  
  
Jack shrugged.  
  
'Whatever,' he muttered, turning to bow to his crew with a wide grin.  
  
A grin that faded slowly as he realised there was one crew member not on deck to greet him. He glanced at James and Gibbs, a question in his eyes before he put it into words.  
  
'Where's Marin?' he asked quietly, a frown on his face as he turned back to the two men.  
  
James exchanged a look with Gibbs.  
  
'In your cabin,' he told the captain, grasping his arm as Jack turned to make his way there. 'But look, Jack, she's not . . . well . . .'  
  
Gibbs rescued him before he could dig himself a pit he couldn't get out of.  
  
'When we told her ye'd been lost overboard, she took it hard,' he told his captain, watching as the words sank in. 'Hasn't eaten or slept since, nor moved neither.'  
  
Jack's frown deepened as his eyes flicked back to James for confirmation of this. The navy man nodded solemnly.  
  
'She hasn't spoken a word since last night,' he added. 'Be gentle with her, Jack.'  
  
He watched as Jack nodded slowly, turning to enter his cabin quietly with a reassuring grin for those he left on the deck.  
  
The cabin was silent. Silent as the grave, Jack thought, remembering an instruction once given to him by the man who was now his cousin by marriage. Huddled on the bed, her red hair a stark contrast to the white shirt she wore, was Marin, still and unmoving. For a moment, he was afraid she was dead, until his ears picked up the soft sigh of her breathing.  
  
His boots made no sound as he walked across to her, sitting on the bed to wrap gentle fingers about her upper arm. She didn't give any sign of having felt the touch, her eyes fixed on the bulkhead before her, unseeing as she endeavoured to ignore him. Jack smiled to himself, feeling a little guilty for the pain she was feeling.  
  
He leant down, his lips close to her ears and murmured,  
  
'Morning, love.'  
  
She jumped, startled, rolling over to cast half-afraid incredulous eyes on him. He smiled down at her.  
  
'Jack?'  
  
He inclined his head to her, his grin widening as she let out a surprised gasp.  
  
'Captain Jack,' he corrected gently, 'but yes, it's Jack.'  
  
Marin let out a low cry, throwing her arms about him. The force of her embrace threw him off-balance and they landed with a thud on the deck, wrapped in each other's arms. Jack let himself enjoy the moment, savouring the knowledge that someone cared for him so much she was prepared to starve herself rather than live without him. He held her tightly as she sobbed in relief, clutching to him as though he was a dream she could wake from at any moment.  
  
'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' she cried, her voice muffled by his shoulder. 'I shouldn't have slapped you, I'm sorry . . .'  
  
Jack pulled back a little, cradling her jaw in his hand as she looked up at him with tearful eyes.  
  
'It was nothing I didn't deserve, love,' he said softly.  
  
She smiled through her tears, her eyes taking in every detail of his face and appearance in wonder.  
  
'You're alive,' she murmured, reaching up to trace his jawline with trembling fingers. 'They said you were lost.'  
  
Jack chuckled, leaning into her tender touch. He had missed her, though they had only been apart one night.  
  
'Love, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow,' he told her.  
  
She gave him an exasperated look, raising her hand to thump his arm. He caught her wrist with a laugh, pulling her up in his arms as he slipped up onto the bunk. Leaning down, he kissed her, for the first time since their argument the day before, and was overjoyed to feel her respond so lovingly to his touch. Drawing back, he planted a kiss on her nose, looking down into steely grey eyes that had somehow lost their edge as she returned the gaze.  
  
'I thought you were dead,' she said softly. 'And it almost killed me.'  
  
He lay beside her, nose to nose, watching the fatigue of her vigil catch up with her. As her eyes drifted shut, he smiled, stroking her hair from her face with a gentleness not many would expect from him.  
  
'Marin?'  
  
She smiled sleepily, forcing her eyes open to look into his as he kissed her softly again.  
  
'I love you,' Jack murmured, holding her gaze as she blinked wearily. 'That's why I married you. Not for treasure, or any promises I might have made. I love you.'  
  
Marin reached out, gently running her hand over his hair as he drew her closer in his arms.  
  
'Thank you,' she said softly, nestling as close as she could to the man she loved.  
  
Jack smiled, dropping another tender kiss on her temple as she pressed herself closer to him, her arms slipping about his waist in a possessive grasp. He lay there, listening to her regular breathing, and thanking his stars that he had finally said it, even if she had no answer to give him.  
  
And then, almost inaudible against his throat, Marin mumbled,  
  
'I love you, too.' 


	5. Haul On The Bowline

Gibbs squinted into the morning sunshine, trying to calculate how soon they would come up on the storms they could see raging ahead of them. The seas around Cape Horn were notoriously rough, and many men had been lost whilst rounding the Horn. Above him he could hear the men in the rigging shouting across to the crew of the Dragon, exchanging good-natured insults and expletives as they clambered through the ropes.  
  
He glanced over to the deck of the Dragon, his eyes settling on Elizabeth and Marin where they leant against the forecastle. Their faces were serious as they spoke, and he wondered just why the younger lass had insisted on stepping across to speak with her friend only hours before they would hit the Cape Horn storms. Jack was talking with Will, gesturing flamboyantly about one thing or another, but Gibbs was willing to bet a large percentage of his plunder that the captain was only on board the Dragon to keep an eye on his wife.  
  
She'd been a little ratty recently, up early and refusing to talk to anyone until she'd been up to the heads. On more than one occasion, Gibbs had been witness to Jack staggering out from his cabin half-asleep, because when he'd woken, Marin hadn't been there. To tell the truth, the whole crew seemed concerned, worried that something might be ailing the young lass. Only Solomon didn't seem affected, and indeed, the cheerful man had been warning people off bothering her until she was ready to tell them. Tell them what, Gibbs wondered.  
  
'I wonder what they're talking about,' James said, leaning against the railing in front of the first mate.  
  
Gibbs snorted.  
  
'Not fer us to know, sir,' he told the younger man matter-of-factly. 'The captains know what they're doing, I'm sure.'  
  
James laughed quietly, and Gibbs was struck once again by how much younger and more alive the man seemed when he let himself feel as he had begun to. The old sailor had known the cold, distasteful side of the commodore for many years, and could not suppress the surprise with which he greeted each smile and laugh that was drawn from Marin's cousin.  
  
'Not them,' James chuckled. 'I meant the women.'  
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes.  
  
'They talk of things that men ought not to wot of, sir,' he said in a mysterious tone, before shrugging. 'I doubt anyone knows. 'Cept maybe Solomon, and he's not saying.'  
  
James nodded, his eyes on the two women as they talked animatedly about something or other.  
  
'I wish Marin would say something, though,' he muttered. 'I don't like thinking that she's ill and doesn't want to worry us.'  
  
Gibbs sighed.  
  
'Aye, well, it would sit with her well enough,' he agreed. 'But Jack'll have it out of her sooner or later, ye mark me words.'  
  
James smiled suddenly, a retrospective smile that lit up his eyes as his gaze met that of the older sailor.  
  
'Consider them marked,' he said softly.  
  
Gibbs stared at him, trying to work out why the phrase was so familiar. Then it came to him, and he let out a bark of laughter that echoed about the ship. He shook his head cheerfully, glancing across at the Dragon.  
  
'I sometimes wonder what came of the old Invincible,' he said pensively, thinking back to the voyage that had brought himself, James, Elizabeth and Will to the Caribbean.  
  
'Well, of course you would,' James said smartly. 'You jumped ship at Port Smith.'  
  
Gibbs laughed at his former commander's indignant expression.  
  
'I wasn't about to hang around to be pressed and sent back to England, sir,' he protested mildly. 'Happen I like it out here.'  
  
James smirked.  
  
'Why doesn't that surprise me?' he muttered.  
  
Suddenly Harry shouted down from the crow's nest, his cry coming a split second before that of Dugan, who had been assigned the same duty aboard the Dragon.  
  
'Land ho!'  
  
Gibbs shared a grin with Hopkins, both in perfect time with one another as they bawled back to the boys.  
  
'Where away?'  
  
James watched, amused, as Dugan counted to three.  
  
'Four points off the larboard bow!' the two boys shouted back down, this time together.  
  
Sailors hurried to the sides of the ships, squinting into the distance to try and see the land that their youngest crew mates had seen. Sure enough, amid the raging waters that surrounded the Horn, there lay an island, dominated by a volcano that seemed to be blowing its top even as the rain poured onto it.  
  
Gibbs grinned.  
  
'That'd be Tierra del Fuego then,' he said calmly, turning to shout across to the Dragon. 'Cap'n! We be getting close!'  
  
Jack grimaced sarcastically at his roguish first mate, quickly finishing his conversation with Will. The younger man nodded firmly, a smile on his face, and hurried up to take the helm from old Hopkins as Jack called to his wife. James watched as Marin embraced Elizabeth with a relieved grin, and moved to join her husband, letting him swing them both across to the Pearl smoothly.  
  
Boots hit the deck with a thud and the two separated, each to their own tasks. James joined Marin as she clambered up into the rigging, her cheeks flushed as they slid out along the spar. She smiled up at him as they began to unfurl the sails, ready to let the storms carry them to their destination. Below them, the two crews began to sing together, heaving on the ropes in time with one another as they readied themselves.  
  
'Haul on the bowline, Gibbsy boy's a-moaning,' sang out a familiar voice, his laughter lost beneath the crews' answering refrain of, 'Haul on the bowline, the bowline, haul!'  
  
Gibbs' mock growl in response to Solomon's verse was heard even up among the rigging, as was Jack's laughter at his first mate's expression. The song continued regardless, Matthew's mewling cries a descant to the rough voices that filled the air around him. Marin laughed down at them, her lithe fingers flying as she secured the ropes that would otherwise flap in the stiff breeze that whipped about them. Solomon grinned across at the little boy, held close in his mother's arms and drew in another deep breath as the crews' voices died away around him.  
  
'Haul on the bowline, little Turner's bawling!'  
  
'Haul on the bowline, the bowline, haul!'  
  
James leant across his cousin, grasping a handful to sailcloth to loosen it from the end of the spar as he shook it out. He took the opportunity to squeeze her hand gently as they began to slip back to the mast. Marin smiled encouragingly at him, nodding her head as he mouthed an 'are you alright' above the wind whistling about them.  
  
'Haul on the bowline, the bloody ship's a-rolling!'  
  
'Haul on the bowline, the bowline, haul!'  
  
They slid down the ropes to join the men as they heaved at the lines to settle a course for their captain. Solomon balanced perfectly on top of the capstan, dancing an untidy jig as he kept the men at their pace for the hauling. Jack grinned at his wife from the helm, pleased to see her so active after a few days of sickliness. As the lines finally came into place, Solomon bawled out the last of his verses, greeted with the loudest chorus yet.  
  
'Haul on the bowline, it's a far cry to pay day!'  
  
'Haul on the bowline, the bowline, haul!'  
  
A rousing cheer went up from both ships as they drifted apart, each setting themselves up to weather the storms they approached. The seas were growing rough, increasingly violent as the ships plunged forward, spurred on by the wind as it picked up, filling the sails as the men scrambled to prepare themselves for a hard trawl.  
  
Jack obligingly left the helm to Cotton and his parrot, moving down onto the main deck to join his wife and her cousin as they stared across the water to the storms that raged ahead of them. He clapped a hand on James' shoulder, startling the other man with an unrepentant grin.  
  
'Looking forward to the Horn, Jim?' he asked, slipping an arm about Marin as the ship pitched forward again.  
  
James gave him a hard look.  
  
'For the last time, Jack, my name is James,' he said patiently. 'And no, as a matter of fact, I am not looking forward to my next brush with the mariner's bane.'  
  
Jack laughed, exhilarated by the rush of the wind and the crashing of the waves.  
  
'I didn't think you were,' he said. 'Fancy taking the first watch, mate?'  
  
James glanced from the captain to Marin, who seemed to be trying her hardest to stay out of the conversation. He knew both of them had been up all night, though why, nobody knew. But he did know that they needed their captain thinking straight if they were to survive the Horn, and so he nodded firmly.  
  
'Is Gibbs staying for it, too?' he asked, glancing up at where the first mate was holding one of his bizarre conversations with Cotton's parrot.  
  
Jack nodded.  
  
'He won't sleep unless I'm on deck,' he shrugged, yawning slightly.  
  
Marin poked him in the ribs.  
  
'You need to sleep, Jack,' she told him, accepting his affectionate kiss with an unabashed smile.  
  
He grinned down at her, James' presence forgotten.  
  
'Only if you tuck me in,' he insisted, chuckling at her comical consternation.  
  
Marin shook her head laughingly, wrapping her arm about her husband's waist as another swell slammed against the Pearl, rolling her mercilessly onto the next wave. As the captain and his wife staggered unsteadily to the great cabin, James moved to join Solomon where the younger man sat perched on the capstan.  
  
'Cap'n gone for a sleep with his lovely wife, I take it?' the young sailor asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
From any other man, James would have taken this comment amiss, thinking it an insult to his cousin, but with Solomon the rules could be ignored. The man was fond of Marin, and James, and his comments were more to tease than insult.  
  
'Yes,' the commodore said bluntly, leaning on the capstan to steady himself as the ship began to settle into a rhythm on the heaving ocean. 'Are you taking first watch, or second?'  
  
Solomon grinned, holding up one finger to indicate his answer.  
  
'You know what's wrong with my cousin, don't you?' James asked him suddenly.  
  
The younger man's grin faded slightly as he nodded.  
  
'I can't tell you,' he added. 'It's her business.'  
  
James frowned, intrigued.  
  
'How do you know?'  
  
'My business to know,' Solomon told him. 'I was trained as a physician before I joined the Pearl.'  
  
The naval man's eyes widened in astonishment. If Solomon was a trained physician, why did he choose to live his life as a pirate? He was so surprised that he voiced his question aloud without thinking. The younger man's expression grew troubled.  
  
'I lost everything when my wife's brother was accused of piracy,' he explained. 'We were drawn into the accusations at some point. Martha, my wife, died in the jail, our son with her. When Jack broke me out because one of his crew was sick, I jumped at the chance to leave it all behind.'  
  
James swallowed, feeling inordinately guilty for bringing the subject up at all. But before he could apologise, Solomon had pushed aside his melancholy, his eyes bright with joy at the sound of the ocean once more.  
  
'Don't worry about Marin, James,' he assured his companion. 'She'll be fine.'  
  
He watched as James heaved a sigh of relief.  
  
'It's not serious then?' he asked with a half-smile.  
  
Solomon laughed.  
  
'Oh, it's serious, alright,' he said, slipping past the other man to scramble up into the rigging. 'I personally can't wait until she works it out.'  
  
James stared after him, confused and less than reassured by the younger man's cool assurance of his cousin's serious but not serious illness. Another swell rolled the ship violently, and his worries were shaken from his mind as the automatic reactions of a sailor took over, sending him flailing up into the rigging after the physician. Such thoughts were best left for a quieter time, he decided, biting down an oath as the ship's rolling almost threw him from the rigging. Perhaps dry land would be a better place to ponder such things.  
  
*~*~*  
  
*sniff* I . . . I s-suppose it's a b-bit pointless of me to a-ask you to review, isn't it? *wanders off crying about how everyone hates her* 


	6. The Eye Of The Storm

It was the sudden stillness that woke him. Jack's eyes snapped open as the rolling and pitching of his beloved Pearl suddenly settled into a gentle rocking that would have pleased him had they been anywhere but by the Horn. Beside him, Marin stirred also, making a girlish sound in her throat as he felt her eyes flutter open against his bare shoulder.  
  
He glanced down at her, seeing the same alarm and wonder in her eyes that he was certain coloured his own expression. She smiled in confusion as he slipped from the bunk, pulling on his clothes quickly. Marin sat up, clutching the covers about her as she listened to the quiet whistle of the wind across the deck above them.  
  
'The eye of the storm,' she murmured, her eyes finding Jack's in mutual triumph. 'We're here.'  
  
He grinned at her excited expression, throwing her shirt to her as she slipped her legs over the side of the bunk, the linen sheet still wrapped about her body. Despite the fact that they had been married for nigh on six months, she was still shy of him when it came to dressing and undressing. Jack obligingly turned his back, passing her breeches back to her as they came to hand.  
  
'Sounds like old Fitz was right,' he told her as they sat side by side on the bunk, each putting their boots on. 'It certainly feels like the eye of a storm, though what we'll find out there, I couldn't say, love.'  
  
Marin smiled faintly, standing to twist her hair back from her face as he wrestled with his bandanna. Satisfied that they were presentable for the crew, Jack pulled on his coat, catching his wife as she slipped past to kiss her tenderly before following her up on deck. He absently tucked the back of her shirt into her sash as they emerged into the quiet air.  
  
Jack felt a triumphant smile work its way onto his face as Marin gasped quietly. They moved together to stand beside Solomon on the larboard side, gazing out across the island before them. It seemed a desolate place, all barren rock and deep caves. Jack was reminded of Isla de Muerta, another island where a curse had been laid to rest.  
  
A gentle breeze tugged at his dreads, making the various beads and trinkets chime as they tapped against one another. James stood nearby, his own eyes wide with wonder that they had even found the place in the midst of the storms without being dashed against the jagged rocks that lined the isle. But no, they had been buffeted straight into a deep cove, protected on three sides by towering cliffs in which caves could be seen to stretch further into the island. Howling filled the air, a steady, high pitched wail that seemed to be torn from inhuman throats, spelling the doom of some poor sailor out at sea that night.  
  
James leant forward, murmuring words all too familiar to Jack and his wife.  
  
'The gold survives within the eye of the storm, where the whispering winds never cease to blow and the wail of the banshee fills the air from year to year, in sight of the land where the eternal flames burn.'  
  
That was the clue that had been given to them, passed down through generations to Elias Fitzpatrick, who in turn had given it to them, just weeks before his death. Marin swallowed against the lump that rose in her throat as she remembered her beloved cousin, grateful for Jack's presence at her back as he took her hand in his.  
  
A shout echoed across the cove from where the Red Dragon had just slipped in behind them, looking a little battered but still sound as she drifted in near silence across the water.  
  
'Ahoy, Pearl!'  
  
Jack turned to see Will and Elizabeth waving to them from the poopdeck. He waved back, grinning as he turned Marin to watch as their friends drew alongside.  
  
'Permission to come aboard, Captain Sparrow?' Elizabeth called as the Dragon dropped anchor beside the Pearl.  
  
'Granted,' Jack said absently, waving his hand in one of those ridiculous gestures that clarified nothing and spoke volumes. 'Bring the captain, too.'  
  
Will shot him an indignant look as he grasped a rope, not bothering to wait for the boarding plank as he swung himself, his wife and his son across to the other ship. Elizabeth had long since given up on wearing dresses whilst on the sea, and had taken a leaf from Marin's book in her clothes, settling on breeches, shirt and waistcoat not unlike those of her husband. The two moved to join their friends at the larboard side, staring out across the island.  
  
'So that's it then,' Will breathed. 'Elias' island really does exist.'  
  
James glanced at him, relieved to hear that he wasn't the only one who had doubted the old pirate's clues to the whereabouts of the family hoard.  
  
'It really does,' he agreed, watching from the corner of his eye as Jack took the baby from Elizabeth, far too comfortable with the infant to be completely inexperienced with children. 'But there are so many caves, it will take us a long while to find the gold.'  
  
Will nodded, his eyes still fixed in wonder on the barren looking rocks.  
  
'There's a stream about a mile inland,' he muttered. 'We saw it as we slipped in. So there's fresh water, at least.'  
  
No one seemed able to tear their eyes from the island, each caught up in their own personal pleasure at having survived the voyage to reach their destination. Then suddenly Marin laughed, a joyous lilting sound that carried across the quiet water as she wrapped her arms about James and swung him about.  
  
'We're here!' she cried, holding him close as he laughed with her, feeling the triumphant pride that swelled through his little cousin.  
  
It was as if Marin's words had broken a spell laid over the two crews, as Gibbs and Hopkins shook themselves, barking out orders to lay the ships alongside one another. The men hurried to attend to their duties, chattering excitedly among themselves as they clambered up into the rigging, or moved to secure the anchors.  
  
Jack bounced young Matthew in his arms, smiling as the little boy laughed at him. Elizabeth saw Marin's eyes turn to her husband, a slightly wistful smile on her face as she watched him play with his friend's son. She slipped an arm about her friend's shoulders.  
  
'Jack's very good with Matthew, isn't he?' she said softly, watching the captain as he played with the baby.  
  
Marin sighed gently, nodding.  
  
'He loves babies,' she murmured. 'But don't tell him I said that, or I'll never hear the end of it.'  
  
'Hear the end of what?' Elizabeth laughed. 'Besides, he won't be able to hide it when he has a few of his own.'  
  
Marin blushed, ducking her head in an attempt to hide the embarrassed flush on her cheeks. Elizabeth lifted her chin.  
  
'Still not well, then?' she asked quietly, her eyes seeing more than Marin would have wished her to.  
  
The younger girl nodded miserably.  
  
'I don't know what's wrong with me,' she shrugged. 'I feel fine most of the time, it's just mornings I'm not so well. What does that mean?'  
  
Elizabeth smiled fondly down at her friend.  
  
'You really don't know, do you?' she said gently.  
  
Marin frowned, confused.  
  
'Know what?'  
  
Elizabeth sighed softly.  
  
'This is what growing up amongst men will do for you,' she said, to no one in particular. 'Look, when you get a chance, talk to Solomon about your nausea. He'll be able to tell you what's wrong.'  
  
'Why can't you?' Marin asked her friend, a little hurt that Elizabeth knew something about her and wasn't sharing the information.  
  
The older woman laughed.  
  
'I've interfered in your marriage enough to know when to keep my nose out of things,' she said mysteriously. 'Ask Solomon, that's all I'm saying.'  
  
A strain of music floated across the deck to them, and they turned to see the men settled together by the two forecastles, pipes and drums out, ready to celebrate their safe arrival. Marin glanced to the great cabin, and laughed to see Will and Jack manhandling one of her husband's more prized possessions out on deck - a cask of the finest Spanish brandy.  
  
Letting her eyes wander over the crew, she could see how happy they were to be out of harm's way, even if it only lasted for this one night. Gibbs had managed to finagle Matthew from his captain's arms, and was sitting with him in the midst of the sailors, even as the crew of the Dragon swarmed across to join the celebrations. The musicians among them opened with one of the more rousing tunes, Solomon stamping about the deck to set the pace for them even as he endeavoured to put words to the well-known melody.  
  
A warm hand ensnared her own, and she looked back to find Jack standing close by, his eyes on the dancers. He bowed flamboyantly to her.  
  
'Might I have the pleasure of this dance, love?' he asked, not waiting for an answer as he swept his little wife into the dancing, ignoring her protests that she couldn't dance at all.  
  
Laughing, Elizabeth turned a deaf ear to her friend's pleas for help, pleased to see Marin being forced to enjoy herself and forget her worries. A gentle arm slipped about her waist, and she didn't need to turn to know that Will had joined her, watching their friends whirl about the deck with the sailors around them cheering them on.  
  
'She still hasn't worked it out, has she?' he murmured to his wife.  
  
Elizabeth's eyes widened.  
  
'How did you know?' she demanded.  
  
Will raised an eyebrow.  
  
'Beth, I went through four months of this with you, do you seriously think I can't recognise the signs?' he asked her archly.  
  
She held his gaze for a moment, before shaking her head with a smile.  
  
'Sorry,' she apologised. 'But don't you dare tell Jack.'  
  
He looked affronted.  
  
'I would never do such a thing,' he protested, his mask of innocence dissolving into a wicked grin. 'Besides, I want to savour the moment when he tells me.'  
  
Elizabeth laughed, slapping his arm lightly in mock indignation on her friend's behalf. He caught her hand and kissed it, that wicked smile never leaving his face as his eyes twinkled mischievously in the falling darkness.  
  
'Since Matthew seems quite at home with Mr Gibbs, Mr Turner,' Elizabeth said suddenly, stepping away from him to execute a bow that could have rivalled Jack's, 'would you do me the distinct honour of this dance?'  
  
Will laughed, curtseying awkwardly to his giggling wife as he took her hand.  
  
'Oh, sir, you are the one to honour me,' he replied, in an impossibly high-pitched voice.  
  
As Elizabeth dissolved into helpless laughter, he took her in his arms and swung her into the dance, quickly settling as they matched Jack and Marin move for move. Even as they settled into the rhythm, the music grew faster and wilder, until both couples gave up in defeat. The laughter and celebrations continued for hours, well into the night as the crews of both the Red Dragon and the Black Pearl gave thanks in their own way to the great lady of the sea that they had made a safe journey.  
  
*~*~*  
  
BIG ANNOUNCEMENT at the end of the review responses today - don't miss it, it affects you all! 


	7. A Good Man

Pay close attention, I shall say this only once . . . I'm sorry. Alright? And Ariandir, I am most heartily repentant for doing that to you, but you did get fair warning. Right, on with the story.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Dawn rose cold and dreary over the little island, illuminating the dew that dripped from sails and ropes aboard both ships. James shuddered involuntarily as one of the drips fell from the rigging to splash icily down his neck. Rubbing his hand over the suddenly cold skin, he moved forward, out of range of the water as it ran from the sails.  
  
The door to the great cabin opened quietly, and he glanced back to see Marin making her speedy way to the heads, lips clamped firmly shut against the tide of nausea that surged within her. A low chuckle nearby told him that Solomon had also seen her hurry across the deck, and he wished for the hundredth time that he knew what ailed his cousin.  
  
The cabin door sighed again, and this time Jack sauntered out, looking as though he had been woken rather roughly by his wife in her haste to get out of the cabin. He pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking wildly for a moment, before glancing around at the quiet ships. Seeing James, he moved to join the commodore, staring out across the island in companionable silence as the Pearl creaked beneath them comfortingly.  
  
Jack sighed softly, his usually merry eyes heavy with thought and sorrow.  
  
'Elias would have loved to see this,' he murmured, seemingly to himself.  
  
James glanced at him, surprised. He had not thought that Jack knew the old pirate well enough to make such judgements, yet the captain had spoken the words with an air of experience.  
  
'You knew him well, then?' he asked quietly, not willing to break the stillness around them by raising his voice.  
  
The captain of the Black Pearl nodded, a faint grin on his face.  
  
'Aye, I knew him,' he said as softly as before. 'Best bloody pirate in the Caribbean, old Fitz was, mate. We all wanted to be like him, or sail in his crew. I was lucky enough to be taught my trade by the old coot.'  
  
James frowned, again surprised that Jack Sparrow had ever been in a position to be taught that which he did so well.  
  
'How long did you know him?' he asked, curious despite himself.  
  
Jack's smile was edged with sadness, not unlike Marin's was whenever she thought of Elias. It occurred to James that, in his own way, Jack had been wounded just as much as Marin by the old pirate's death, and that maybe her presence in his life was doing as much to heal his pain as his was in hers.  
  
'Since I was a lad,' Jack murmured. 'I tried to pick his pocket in Tortuga.'  
  
He laughed quietly, remembering the scene.  
  
'He caught me, of course, but he never punished me for it. Said if I was brave enough to pick a pirate's pocket, then I should be one myself. So he took me on board the Dragon and taught me all he knew.'  
  
He glanced up towards the heads, where Marin still hadn't reappeared.  
  
'I was on board when he pulled her out the water,' he mused. 'If only I'd known the impact that would have on me, I might not have broken with him.'  
  
James followed his gaze, watching as Marin slipped from the heads and returned to the cabin, not looking any better than she had when she'd first come on deck. The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.  
  
'You knew her when she was a child?'  
  
Jack nodded, this time a fully fledged grin on his weathered face.  
  
'Six years of her growing,' he said, somewhat proudly. 'Of course, neither of us can remember much of the other during that. My only real memory of her was when I jumped ship. I nearly ran her over.'  
  
He chuckled again, seeing in his mind's eye the tiny girl-child flinching back out of his way as he ran up on deck, ignoring the howls coming from the brig below him.  
  
'But I remember one night, the first night she was on board,' he mentioned, his tone suddenly serious. 'I'd never seen old Fitz look so agitated in my whole life. He took one look at that locket she wore, and closeted himself in his cabin with her for hours. My first taste of command, that night was. He left me in charge while he sorted her. Like any good father would.'  
  
James smiled faintly. Of course Jack would remember his first taste of command, it had nothing to do with Marin's presence.  
  
'When did it all change?' he asked. 'Why did you break with him?'  
  
Jack's face grew solemn, a flicker of guilt flashing across his eyes.  
  
'I saw the Pearl,' he said simply.  
  
James remained silent, sensing more beneath Jack's calm exterior that the pirate needed to say.  
  
'Have you ever stared out across a harbour, James, and seen the perfect ship, the ship that is just right for you?' Jack asked suddenly, turning to look at the other man with an expression that was stripped of his usual merry facade.  
  
James nodded, smiling gently.  
  
'The Interceptor,' he murmured, feeling the sorrow that came whenever he thought of the ship he had always referred to as his. Even though it had been years since she was lost, there was still an ache there for his beautiful ship.  
  
Jack nodded in echo, seeing the understanding on the commodore's face.  
  
'I'd never understood Fitz's attachment to the Dragon until I saw the Pearl,' he said quietly, turning back to stare over the strangely calm waters. 'I knew, if I could only gain command of her, that part of my life would be complete. Of course, it was a fool's errand, and Fitz told me so, but I wouldn't listen. He ended up confining me to the brig just to get some peace on deck.'  
  
James' smile quirked up a bit. He could imagine Elias Fitzpatrick doing just such a thing to a young Jack Sparrow, just for a bit of quiet. Jack saw the smile, nodding in agreement as he continued his tale.  
  
'If only I'd listened to him, I would not have been through so much,' he murmured. 'But the Pearl was suddenly my life, she was all I thought of. So when Fitz came down to let me out, I waited till my cage was opened and I stabbed him. He was shocked, mate, he hadn't thought I had it in me. Anyway, while he was staggering around, I ran up on deck and leapt overboard. He must have been furious.'  
  
James stared at Jack. He would never have thought that the pirate could stab someone in cold blood, just for a ship. But then, Jack had been through a lot in the years since he broke with Elias, and what he would have done then, he would not do now.  
  
'He kept that dagger,' Jack mused. 'Gave it to Marin. Odd, innit?'  
  
James nodded.  
  
'Perhaps that Celtic blood he was so proud of gave him a few hints for the future,' he speculated.  
  
Jack gave him an arch look.  
  
'That Celtic blood runs through your veins too, mate,' he pointed out. 'Maybe it was hinting at Laura when you asked for Elizabeth.'  
  
James was offended momentarily, until he saw the logic in the pirate's teasing words. He chuckled softly.  
  
'Maybe,' he agreed.  
  
The stillness fell over them again as they looked out across the water, both so much more comfortable with the other than they would ever have thought possible. The Royal Naval Commodore and the pirate captain, standing together as equals, united in so many ways and yet still so separate as to be strangers. James drew in a deep breath, turning to look at Jack with an inscrutable expression.  
  
'I think it's about time we put our differences behind us, Jack,' he said firmly, ignoring the surprised look on his companion's face. 'You are a good man, and I would feel honoured to call you my friend.'  
  
The look on Jack's face was priceless as James held out his hand. The pirate stared at him for a long moment, before his palm smacked against the commodore's in a firm grip.  
  
'Only if you would permit me the same honour, James,' he grinned, shaking his friend's hand warmly.  
  
The two men stood together in a moment of complete understanding and serenity, at one with the world around them, and for the first time, with each other.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The deck of the Pearl was alive with business, men preparing for the trek around the rocky island in search of this elusive treasure the captains had promised them was there. An air of muted excitement hung over the cove as they went about their work, each fuelled by the excitement that radiated from Jack and his friends.  
  
Gibbs reached out and grasped Harry's shirt as the young lad slipped past, hoping to side-step any more lifting. He'd been pressed into helping carry the fresh water casks up on deck from the hold, and was knackered already from the exertion. He had no idea how he was going to survive a long hard walk after the morning's activities.  
  
'Harry, lad, step over to the forecastle and fetch out Solomon and Marin, would ye?' Gibbs asked him, knowing fully well that the boy had taken on too much for himself that day. 'The cap'n says we'll be off in a short while.'  
  
More relieved than he could articulate, Harry nodded to the first mate with a grin, ducking under the longboat as it was swung out over the calm waters of the bay. He slipped along the deck to where the forecastle hatch stood open, prepared to stick his head down and shout for the two to join them. But as he opened his mouth to do so, something Marin said stopped him short.  
  
'I can't be,' she was saying vehemently to Solomon. 'It's just an illness, it has to be.'  
  
Solomon sounded vaguely amused as he answered.  
  
'How many illnesses do you know only attack in the morning, Marin?' he asked her. 'You can deny this all you want, but it will be hard to pretend it's not happening when you start to show.'  
  
Harry frowned, intrigued. Start to show what, he wondered.  
  
'When will that be?' Marin was asking, and Harry found his heart going out to her.  
  
She sounded small and frightened, and he did not want to think of her being frightened. Marin had been his first friend aboard the Pearl, and he would protect her with his life if need be. But this sounded like something no one could protect her from, not even Jack.  
  
He slipped inside cautiously, careful not to be heard as Solomon sighed.  
  
'It depends,' the young man mused. 'How long did you say you'd been ill?'  
  
Peering around a hammock that had been left hanging by some careless seaman, Harry's eyes went straight to Marin. She was turned slightly away from him, but even so, he could see how pale her face was. Her hand was rubbing her midriff, almost as if she were completely unaware that she was doing so.  
  
'About two, maybe three months,' she told Solomon.  
  
As Harry watched, the young seaman knelt before his friend, his hands on her shoulders.  
  
'Then you'll start showing within the next month or so, I'm afraid,' he told her, and from the sound of his voice, Harry could tell that he really was worried for her. 'You would do well to talk to Elizabeth.'  
  
Marin sighed, and her face tightened, as though tears were not far away.  
  
'She told me to talk to you,' she said quietly.  
  
Solomon sighed gently and leant forward, hugging his little friend close for a moment.  
  
'You need to tell Jack,' he murmured to her, letting her pull back and roughly wipe the moisture from her cheeks. 'He has a right to know.'  
  
A right to know what? Harry was near frantic with worry for his friend now. Like everyone else, he had assumed she would recover from whatever it was that ailed her, but this conversation was tearing his confidence to shreds.  
  
Marin nodded, sniffing slightly.  
  
'I know,' she said, drawing in a deep breath. 'But I'm frightened, Solomon.'  
  
Solomon smiled affectionately down at her.  
  
'I don't think I've ever seen a woman more terrified than my Martha when she found out she was expecting our boy,' he told her, and Harry had to bite his tongue to prevent a gasp escaping.  
  
He slipped back to the hatch, and knocked loudly.  
  
'Cap'n says we're off in a while!' he called, trying to sound as though he'd only just been told.  
  
Marin stepped into view, looking for all the world as though nothing was wrong. She smiled up at him.  
  
'Thank you, Harry, we're coming,' she told him.  
  
As she and Solomon made their way to Jack's side, Harry found himself setting a course for Dugan. Tugging at the Scottish boy's arm, he drew his friend off to one side, ignoring Dugan's irritated expression.  
  
'What is it noo?' he demanded, shaking Harry's hand from his shirt.  
  
The younger boy's eyes were wide and wild, somewhat alarming to the more experienced cabin boy.  
  
'It's Marin,' Harry said breathlessly. 'She's not ill!'  
  
Dugan rolled his eyes.  
  
'Ach, get on wi' ye,' he said irritably. 'I knowed she'd be fine in a while.'  
  
Harry shook his head vehemently, retaining his grasp on the older boy's arm.  
  
'She won't,' he insisted. 'I just overheard her talking to Solomon -'  
  
Dugan's eyes hardened.  
  
'What're ye doing, listening tae other people's private conversations, eh?' he chided.  
  
Harry pinched him.  
  
'Shut up and listen, would you?' he said, a little angry at Dugan's off-hand manner. 'She's going to have a baby!'  
  
Dugan froze, staring down at his friend in shocked surprise. He let out a low whistle, a proud grin on his youthful face.  
  
'Ach, well, wouldn't ye know?' he mused. 'A better bit o' news we've not had in a long spell.'  
  
Harry stared at him.  
  
'Shouldn't we tell the captain?' he asked. 'She shouldn't be going on this trip ashore in her condition.'  
  
Dugan's hands were suddenly in a vicelike grip on the younger boy's arms. He forced Harry to look into his eyes.  
  
'Ye're not tae get involved, Harry lad,' he said sternly. 'Tis Marin's choice who knows and who doesnae. Let her tell the cap'n.'  
  
'But -'  
  
Dugan shook him, none too gently.  
  
'No buts,' he said, his tone brooking no disobedience. 'If I hear ye've bin stirring things up a 'tween 'em, ye'll know bloody quick who taught me my trade. Noo, get on wi' ye, and not a word tae anyone.'  
  
Harry let himself be pushed away, back towards his own crew, his mind awhirl with questions. But if the Scottish lad said no one was to know unless Marin told them, then who was he to argue? Dugan knew these two crews better than Harry, and the younger lad was prepared to trust his judgement. His mind made up, he hurried to leap into the longboat beside Solomon, biting his tongue against the questions he so wanted to ask. He could wait for a better time to question the young man about what he had heard. 


	8. Rocks And Water

It felt good to be back on land, James decided, even if the lack of unsteady ground made it a little difficult to walk without a roll. But being on land had given him time to think of Laura, the woman he had finally given his heart to, left behind so many months before to await his return in Port Royale.  
  
If he closed his eyes, he could almost see her that heart-breaking morning on the docks, when he had taken his leave of her. Her dark hair had been bound back loosely, strands falling about her face as she endeavoured to keep from crying. Those sea-green eyes that had so captivated him when he first saw her had been wet with tears, shining with unspoken grief at their untimely separation.  
  
Concentrating, James cast his mind back to a happier scene, one only a few days after his cousin's wedding. He had been walking with her along the bluff, Jack and Marin a few paces behind. Laura had asked him of his life, and he had set to talking about his deep love for the ocean. He'd never spoken of it to anyone before, this connection with the elemental side of his nature too personal and private to share, but somehow it had felt right that she should know. He recalled the wonder on her face as she listened, clearly enthralled by his words, and how she had unconsciously taken his arm, warming him through with that single touch. Fixing in his mind that sweet smile, James sighed softly, half-wishing he had never left.  
  
A palm smacked into his behind with a resounding slap, making him leap forward in shock. He turned, ready to dress down whoever had done it, only to look into Marin's grinning face and find himself at a loss.  
  
'Wool gathering, James?' she asked innocently.  
  
He narrowed his eyes, growling impotently down at her as she slipped to his side with an impish smile.  
  
'Marin Sparrow, if you ever do that to me again -'  
  
She turned back to him, her entire posture a challenge.  
  
'You'll do what exactly?' she demanded.  
  
Glaring down at her, his mouth working in complete silence, James was fully aware that there was no threat he could make that would worry her in the slightest. In defeat, he threw up his hands, submitting to her laughter as she hugged him close for a moment.  
  
'Oh, James,' she giggled. 'You're too uptight. Relax a bit, would you?'  
  
He smiled down at her, speaking through clenched teeth.  
  
'I was fairly relaxed before you interrupted me,' he muttered.  
  
Marin simply laughed harder, slipping her arm about his waist as they continued on their way. They had looked into four cavernous openings already that day, all of which had drawn a blank. Ahead of them, James could see Jack and Will talking earnestly, and he could only imagine what kind of scheme the pirate captains were hatching between them. He glanced to his right, and found Harry watching Marin closely. What had happened to make the lad so protective suddenly, he wondered. Maybe he knew something of whatever ailed the young woman.  
  
He shivered suddenly as a gust of wind blew down the neck of his shirt. The warmth of his cousin's body was very welcome, since the continual gale that blew across this piece of rock made for a cold habitat. And the constant wailing was eerie, almost as if the banshees really were howling for this island, or rather, for the blood that had been spilt to get them there. The silver locket was frozen against his throat, made so by the harsh surroundings.  
  
Marin began to hum quietly, the simple melody floating up to sound gently in his ears, and no other's, before being swept away on the breeze. James smiled softly, recognising the tune from his childhood as the one that had brought them together when their differences could so easily have set them apart. As he listened, remembering the times his mother had sung it to help him sleep when he was just a boy, he realised that the bond that held him and his cousin together was not honour or duty, or even a promise made to a dying man. It was love, the love that grows within a family to bind and protect. The love that he had been lacking for so many years since his father passed away.  
  
As her voice trailed off, he sighed once again, content to stand for a moment with her, his ears chasing the last notes of the melody as it drifted away on the wind.  
  
'What does it mean?' he asked quietly.  
  
Marin glanced up at him.  
  
'In English, you mean?' she asked, and he nodded.  
  
She shrugged.  
  
'Ar eirinn ni neosainn ce hi means for Ireland I'd not tell her name,' she said thoughtfully. 'It's a story of sorts, I suppose.'  
  
James smiled at her pensive expression, pleased to see that he had finally managed to provoke her into using her head rather than answering impulsively.  
  
'What about?' he asked, genuinely curious.  
  
Marin sighed, frowning as she worked through the translation of the gaelic words in her head.  
  
'Well,' she mused. 'It's from a man's point of view, and he's singing about a maiden who lives on the next farm, about how much he loves her. But because she doesn't love him in return, he won't tell her name to anyone. I think.'  
  
James held her gaze for a long moment until she shrugged again.  
  
'It loses a bit in translation,' she offered.  
  
He nodded slowly, amused by this anti-climactic revelation that his mother had been singing him a love song to make him sleep during his childhood.  
  
'Yes, I think it does,' he agreed.  
  
There was a shout from ahead of them, and they glanced up in time to see Will topple down out of sight, Jack very nearly following him, but for the restraining hands Elizabeth placed on his collar. They hurried forward, joining the two as they peered down into the darkness.  
  
'It just crumbled out from under him,' Elizabeth told them, before leaning forward. 'Will?'  
  
His voice floated up to them.  
  
'Fine, I'm fine,' he called. 'Someone throw me a lantern or something, would you?'  
  
A lantern was lowered on a length of rope, the tinderbox following with a clunk as it hit the rocks below. They watched as Will lit the candle within, showing himself to be a little over twenty feet below them. He ventured forward a few steps, and they could hear water splashing beneath his feet as he stumbled on the uneven ground.  
  
Carefully Jack moved around to follow the light as it disappeared beneath him, trying not to disturb the rocks around the edge of the impromptu hole.  
  
'What do you see?' he called down, listening as his voice echoed off the walls of the cavern below.  
  
'Nothing much,' Will told him. 'Rocks and water . . . hang on.'  
  
They heard him let out a low whistle, laughing slightly at what he had found. Jack found himself exchanging a glance with James as both men began to work out how they were going to get their friend out of there. Suddenly, his voice floated up to them again, tinged with humour and excitement.  
  
'Marin, James,' Will shouted up to them. 'I think you definitely want to see this.'  
  
*~*~*  
  
No matter how much she tried to hide it, Marin hated heights. Really hated them. Hated them with a paralysing fear that seemed to centre on her capacity to breathe and spread from there. She was fine whilst at sea, for some reason the swaying of a mast top was nothing to her compared to being lowered awkwardly through a hole into a dark cavern.  
  
She'd protested as much as she could against the action, even telling them she'd rather wait up there for them to tell her what Will had found, but Jack would hear nothing of it. She was going down with them, or no one was. Faced with such unequivocal orders, Marin had chosen to face her fear.  
  
So here she was, dangling on the end of a rope, surrounded by the gloom that filled the cavern. She knew that below her, Jack waited to untie the rope from her chest, and that she was held fast by four men she had known and trusted since childhood, but still she could not quell her shaking. Fists clenched and eyes tight shut, Marin endeavoured to convince herself that her feet were on dry land, not flailing about twenty feet from the ground.  
  
'Easy, love, it can't be that bad,' she heard Jack say soothingly as his hands grasped her waist, guiding her to the ground beside him.  
  
Her eyes snapped open, giving him the full force of her flinty glare as he untied her.  
  
'Easy for you to say,' she muttered through clenched teeth, slipping out from the rope and wrapping her arms about him to calm herself after that interminable few minutes. Surprised, Jack let her hold him, feeling slightly guilty for putting her through something her shaking told him she had not liked at all. She drew in a wobbling breath, forcing herself to calm down as he held her gently, hating herself for letting him see her so afraid.  
  
There was a scrabbling noise above them, and James came into view, laughing at something someone had said to him as he let himself be lowered down to them. Moving himself and his wife from under the descending commodore, Jack lifted Marin's chin, looking into her eyes with an apologetic expression.  
  
'Why didn't you tell me you were so scared?' he murmured.  
  
She shrugged half-heartedly.  
  
'A very dear friend once told me a pirate should never admit to being afraid, especially to another pirate,' she managed, smiling self- consciously as he laughed, remembering the night he had told her that.  
  
'Good point, love,' Jack chuckled, turning back to where James was picking at the knot that held the rope about him. 'Now, lets go and see what young Master William has found, shall we?'  
  
With James at their side, they picked their way among rocks and rivulets in the semi-darkness, to where Will was standing before a sheer wall of what appeared to be slate, his lantern flickering off a design that seemed strangely familiar. Marin gasped quietly, her hand going to her throat where the locket nestled, her eyes wide as she looked on the rock face with astonished eyes.  
  
Wider than three men's combined arm-span, and higher still than James' head, chiselled into the rock itself was a design that could have been engraved on her soul. Four interlocking rings, joined together by chains that ran about each of them, and within those rings lay another surprise. Four separate pictures had been engraved into the stone, the four designs that made up the family crest in startling relief against the dark stone itself, each within its own ring.  
  
Will nudged James, grinning up at the older man.  
  
'I take it this is what we were looking for then,' he murmured.  
  
James gave him a withering look.  
  
'No, Mr Turner, we were looking for a fairy to light the way for us,' he said, his tone scathing.  
  
Will's grin widened at this, even though by rights he should have been offended. James abruptly dropped his sarcastic expression, sending the pirate a grin to rival his own as he took a flame from Will's lantern to light one he had brought down with him. Stepping closer to the rock face, he ran a finger over the apex of the engraving, where an inch wide irregular circle had been cut from the stone, at the exact point where the four rings joined.  
  
Marin joined him, her eyes narrowing as she, too, ran her fingers over the little hole. She glanced up at the picture, still entranced by the piece itself, though unable to quell the suspicion that it was important to them in some way. She could feel Jack's presence at her back, mildly inquisitive as he looked over her shoulder.  
  
'You know,' he said thoughtfully. 'That hole there . . . wouldn't you say it's roughly the size and shape of that silver doubloon you're carrying?'  
  
Marin's eyes widened, and she glanced back at the hole, seeing the similarities that had escaped her before. There was a clink beside her, followed by another, and she turned to see James holding two pieces of the doubloon together, examining their edges in comparison to the shape cut out from the rock face.  
  
'Maybe we're supposed to put it there,' he murmured.  
  
Will joined them, tugging the locket Elias had given him on his deathbed from around his neck. As he, too, removed his piece of the doubloon from the ornate silver, Marin did the same, placing it, together with the other pieces, snugly in the cut out. They were a perfect fit, and nothing happened.  
  
James sagged, sighing.  
  
'It was worth a try,' he shrugged, and reached out to take the doubloon back again.  
  
Jack's hand clamped about his wrist.  
  
'What?' he asked, alarmed.  
  
'Shh,' Jack hushed him. 'Listen.'  
  
The four of them stood together in the semi-darkness, straining their ears to hear whatever it was that had alarmed their friend. Marin frowned.  
  
'I don't hear anything.'  
  
Jack's eyes met hers, and for the first time she could see no amusement or humour within the black depths.  
  
'Exactly,' he murmured. 'The wind stopped the moment that silver touched the rock.'  
  
Her eyes widened in horror, and as one they began to back away from the wall of stone. Suddenly, Will froze, his face a mask of terrified concentration.  
  
'Can you hear that?' he asked softly.  
  
Once again, they stood, this time far closer to one another than before, listening for whatever elusive sound had come to Will's ears. And this time, they heard it.  
  
A low rumble that seemed to rise from beneath their feet, steadily growing louder and louder as they stared at one another in unabashed fear. The ground began to shake, throwing them down as the tremors grew more and more violent with each passing second. As the noise grew, so did the earth's shaking, until that was all there was.  
  
Marin was vaguely aware of Jack's arms around her as they huddled against the wall of the cavern, eyes tightly shut as they both tried to block out what was happening. She could just about feel James at her back, and knew Will would be just beyond him, both as frightened and shocked as she was, though that was no comfort as the rocks groaned around them.  
  
She felt moisture seeping into her trousers, opening her eyes to find water trickling from beneath the engraved rock face, overflowing the little rivulets that ran about their feet to raise the water level steadily, inescapably. The rocks still shook, but now water ran around them, the flow from beneath the rock face increasing as the tremors continued.  
  
As the water level reached their knees, they stood, each aware of an ear- splitting groan that was emanating from behind the rock face. Jack's eyes widened as he picked out tiny cracks beginning to appear in the smooth stone, and he gestured wildly to his companions, refusing to let go of his wife even as they stumbled backwards, as far from the cracking rock as possible.  
  
As they reached the far wall of the cavern, with nowhere else to turn to, the rock face shattered violently, throwing up great lumps of granite and slate that were carried at a shocking rate on a rising tide of water towards the four cowering against the cavern wall. Jack's hands were ripped from Marin as the water hit him, lifting him from his feet in a swirl of debris from the shattered wall as he fought to break for the surface. He was lifted higher and higher, the cavern roof growing closer with frightening speed as the water rushed into the huge chamber.  
  
A hand grasped his shirt, and he was turned in the water to face Will, who looked as terrified as he felt. Fingers grasped arms as the water pushed them together, unashamed to cling to each other as the rush of water slowed, and the rumbling quieted, and everything finally stopped, leaving them in that same semi-dark silence, their heads brushing the roof of the cavern, shivering as they drifted together in the sea-salty water that had drenched them so thoroughly. They could hear cursing from above them, where the sailors and Elizabeth must have been caught off-guard by the earth tremor, but that didn't concern them for a moment.  
  
There was no sign of Marin or James.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Alright, I'm not that repentant. *grin* But you'll forgive me, won't you? 


	9. By Blood Undone

Yes, I know, it's been ages, but hey, I have an excuse! And it's a good one! *ahem* I have a new job. And I'm working shifts. So don't get stroppy with me or I'll lose interest altogether. How's that for a threat?  
  
*~*~*  
  
With a gasp that echoed throughout the cavern about him, James' head broke the surface of the water, drawing in breath after shuddering breath as he flailed about, trying to gain some control over his limbs. A few seconds later, there was another tremendous splash as Marin, too, seemed to catapult from beneath the water, coughing as she struck out for the nearest bit of land. She clambered up it weakly, paying no heed to her surroundings as James hauled himself up beside her. Weak and exhausted, they collapsed onto the smooth rocks, holding one another tightly as the shock of their ordeal hit them.  
  
James had been torn from his companions by the rushing water, pulled mercilessly below the surface until he had no idea of his direction, or even which way up he was. When he'd ventured his eyes open, they had been met with blackness and rushing bubbles that stung as he was drawn inexorably through them. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that he was being pulled against the flow of the water, into the cavern where the water had rushed from. It had felt as though he was being crushed by the weight of all that water, and as soon as the rushing ceased, he had struck out for his idea of the surface, desperately hoping to reach it before his lungs gave out on him.  
  
Beside him, Marin heaved suddenly, turning to throw up what little she had in her stomach, along with the copious amounts of sea-water that she had swallowed only moments before as she was dragged against the current. James forced himself to sit up, reaching over to rub her back as she gagged, her body convulsing weakly. Ever the gentleman, even in his current state, he averted his eyes from her sopping wet shirt as the once white fabric clung to her cold skin. Of all days, she had to choose this one to go about without her waistcoat on.  
  
Shaking, Marin turned back to him, letting him gather her into his arms and hold her close as they both looked out across the cavern, shivering with cold. They were sat on one of many little outcroppings of rock, the only one that was free of any burden. Atop the others lay huge stone chests, decorated with exotic runes and pictograms. And ahead of them lay an opening out to sea, through which a fleet of longboats could easily sail.  
  
'Well,' James stuttered, his teeth chattering as he held his cousin close. 'We found the treasure then.'  
  
Marin laughed weakly, numb fingers clutching at him as her body trembled uncontrollably.  
  
'Who bloody cares?' she managed, rubbing her hands up and down his arms in an attempt to warm him.  
  
James' answering laugh was just as feeble as her own, but it made them both feel far better to indulge the bitter amusement that rose within them. He leant back, his hand on the rocks and his fingers instinctively flinched away from a cold metallic object behind him. He turned, staring down at what he had found in amazement. By his fingers lay the four pieces of the silver doubloon, wet with salt water.  
  
A shout echoed through the cavern to them, making them both jump. He looked around wildly, seeing no one until Marin pointed upwards. There was another hole in the roof of this cavern, and several concerned faces were peering through it, the most prominent being Jack and Will's. The two pirate captains looked a little the worse for wear, but on the whole fine as they shouted down to their companions.  
  
'Everything alright down there?'  
  
James opened his mouth to reply and flinched as his chattering teeth found a purchase on his tongue. Laughing at the expression on his face, Marin raised her voice.  
  
'Cold and wet, but apart from that, fine,' she told them. 'There's an opening to the cave from the sea.'  
  
Jack frowned, clearly interested, but also frantic to get down there and ascertain for himself his wife's health.  
  
'Where?' he called.  
  
She gestured vaguely in the general direction, and heard Will send several of the Dragon's crew back to the ships for the longboats.  
  
'Get them to bring dry clothes,' she called up to them, hearing her request passed on by Gibbs as he ambled away from the hole.  
  
Elizabeth's head appeared over the edge as she gazed down into the cavern, her face concerned as she looked down at her friends.  
  
'Are you sure you're alright?' she asked worriedly. 'Nothing broken or cut?'  
  
James sneezed suddenly, making Marin chuckle as he wrapped his arms about himself in yet another futile attempt to get warm again. She grinned up at her friend.  
  
'We're fine, Liz,' she called. ' Just . . . get them to hurry up, would you?'  
  
As Elizabeth got to her feet and moved away, Jack's head reappeared over the edge.  
  
'We're going to scout down the headland and meet the boats as they come around,,' he told her. 'Will you two be alright there while we're gone, love?'  
  
'For the last time, Jack, we're fine,' Marin laughed. 'Hurry up and bring us something warm and dry to wear, for heaven's sake!'  
  
His grin was fleeting, as though he wasn't quite convinced by her laughing dismissal of his worries, but he dutifully got to his feet and moved away, calling those who remained on the surface to him as he made his way down the headland as he had said he would.  
  
James chuckled hoarsely as Marin returned to his arms, resting her head wearily on his shoulder.  
  
'Do you think they might be a little worried about us?' he asked her, gratified to feel her laughter reverberate through his chest in answer.  
  
'Just a little,' she agreed, sighing softly as they settled down to wait for their friends to retrieve them.  
  
They didn't have very long to wait, for within a half an hour they could hear the shouts as the longboats thumped ashore to collect the stragglers from the beach that must be just outside the cavernous opening. Shortly after that, the longboats appeared, drifting slowly in towards where they sat with some agitated faces looking them over as they rose to greet them.  
  
Jack was among the first to set foot ashore, wrapping his wife in a blanket as he held her to him, not ashamed to show how worried he had been for her. Gibbs swathed James in another blanket, pinching his cheeks mercilessly to restore some of the feeling into his face, as the rest of the men secured the boats and stepped ashore.  
  
They stared in wonder at the chests that littered the rocky outcroppings, amazed at the amount of wealth stored in this one cavern alone, and yet, those who had come to retrieve it, to claim it as their inheritance, had almost died to reveal its resting place. The Black Pearl's crew had experience of Aztec curses, their compatriots aboard the Red Dragon too cautious not to heed their warnings. This was the captains' venture, let them be the ones to test the patience of the heathen gods.  
  
Marin accepted Jack's kiss willingly, letting him rub the blanket over her, warming her frozen body with the warmth from his own as he brushed his lips tenderly over hers. Drawing back, he smiled down at her, relaxing finally now that he had her in his arms and he knew she was safe and well.  
  
'You have a cold nose,' he murmured, grinning as she rolled her eyes.  
  
'Well, you're standing on my foot, but I wasn't going to mention it,' she shot back sweetly, laughing at his expression as he glanced down to make sure that he wasn't standing on her.  
  
With a chuckle for his unfounded worry, he turned to look out across the cavern, trying to stem the apprehension that rose within him when faced with not one, but twenty Aztec chests, filled with Aztec gold. He remembered all too well the trouble that only one piece had caused not so long ago, and glancing over at his companions, he could see that those same thoughts were running through Will's head. Could the curse really be got around as easily as Elias' Celtic ancestors thought?  
  
*~*~*  
  
Marin knelt before the nearest chest, running her hands over the yellow stone with something akin to reverence. The pictograms were typically gruesome, images of ritual sacrifice and dismemberment that could have been frightening had she taken the time to properly look at them. She glanced up at her companions, seeing their grave expressions as they talked quietly nearby.  
  
She didn't understand why they were so nervy. It was just gold, and since when had anyone put any store by the stories of the cursed pirates? Oh, she had heard the tales of Barbossa and his crew of undead, but really, such stories were for scaring children around a campfire. Still, Jack, Will, Elizabeth and James all seemed to have some personal reason for wanting things to go perfectly when the first of the chests was opened, something that bound them together, and though she felt a little left out, Marin was willing to go along with it.  
  
So they were waiting for the moon to rise, and shine down into the cavern to illuminate the chests where they stood on their little islands. Will glanced over at Marin where she knelt, his eyes troubled.  
  
'Are you sure we shouldn't tell her?' he asked quietly. 'If the curse is still active, she has a right to know.'  
  
Jack shook his head, sighing softly.  
  
'She'd never believe us, mate,' he murmured. 'And besides, where's the point in telling her only to find out that this Celtic curse-breaker had the right idea after all? She'd think us all mad.'  
  
Elizabeth was nodding.  
  
'Jack's right,' she said, her voice barely audible above the crash of the waves against the rocks outside the cavern. 'Anyway, the only way she'd believe us is if she turns into a walking corpse when she takes a piece of the gold.'  
  
Will sighed dejectedly, nodding in agreement.  
  
'I know,' he muttered. 'It just doesn't feel right, leaving her in the dark.'  
  
Jack snorted.  
  
'How do you think I feel?' he bantered. 'I'm married to her!'  
  
James laughed quietly.  
  
'By your own choice, Jack, stop complaining,' he said firmly.  
  
The pirate captain glowered at him. He was about to speak when the cloud cover broke suddenly, and a sharp ray of moonlight shone down into the cavern, illuminating a chest not far from where they stood. Jack glanced at his companions, nodding solemnly.  
  
'That one,' he said, gesturing to the shining chest.  
  
Marin rose from her knees to join them, slipping the silver doubloon from her boot as she approached the chest. Glancing back at them, she placed the doubloon into the indentation in the very centre of the chest lid, stepping back hurriedly in case the sea decided to make another incursion into their otherwise harmless trip. There was the sound of stone grating against stone, and the chest lid moved fractionally. Drawing in a deep breath, Jack lifted one booted foot and kicked the lid free, revealing the golden medallions within.  
  
As Marin moved forwards, unaware that she was the unwitting test of the Celts' curse breaker, Will sighed softly.  
  
'Here's where we find out if this was all a waste of time,' he murmured, his hand seeking Elizabeth's as Marin's fingers closed about a medallion.  
  
As she lifted it to eye level, the clouds covered over the moon once more, leaving them with no way of knowing if the curse was still active. They waited in silence, not one of them prepared to take their eyes off Marin as she examined the piece. Then Jack sighed sadly.  
  
'Ah, well,' he shrugged. 'We've got no other option open.'  
  
He drew his pistol, sighting along it at his wife's unprotected back. Elizabeth's elbow connected with his midriff, knocking the wind out of him, at approximately the same time as James' fingers clamped over his wrist, wresting the weapon from the wheezing pirate's hand. As Jack fell to his knees, gasping for breath, the moonlight shone into the cavern once more, illuminating Marin where she stood. And to their everlasting joy, nothing happened.  
  
She turned, frowning at the sight of her husband wheezing on the floor and her cousin ostensibly examining his pistol.  
  
'What's going on?' she asked, dropping the medallion back into the chest as she knelt beside Jack.  
  
He grinned up at her, drawing in a deep breath and coughed lightly.  
  
'Proving a theory, love,' he said off-hand. 'I think they won.'  
  
Elizabeth laughed at him, surprised that her elbow jab had had such a dramatic effect.  
  
'I should say we did,' she agreed, letting herself get caught up in the triumph of the moment as she turned to embrace her husband.  
  
Will grinned, holding her close, more relieved than he could say that no more of his blood would have to be spilt to set another curse to rest.  
  
'Begun by blood, by blood undone,' James murmured, tracing the heathen lettering around the rim of the chest. He looked over at his celebrating friends, letting himself laugh heartily. 'Bloody hell, Elias, we really did it.' 


	10. Wonder And Expectation

Ildera: *nervously swallows* Er. Hello. *pathetic wave* I know it's been a while, sorry about that . . . erm . . . well, Word decided to lock me out of my own story, so I had to download all the chapters I'd written and posted and open another file to continue from where I left off. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. *glances over at collective cast of story cowering out of sight* And that lot haven't been much help at all. Anywho, enough of me, on with the story!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Moonlight shone down hazily on the Jamaican town of Port Royale, illuminating its streets with a soft light that seemed to fill the town with a melancholy air. As usual, only the fort and the taverns remained active in the small hours, the townspeople slumbering peacefully in their beds until dawn broke.  
  
Governor's House was still and silent, the trees and bushes that decorated the garden blowing gently in the breeze, their rustling a comforting descant to the crashing waves on the beach far below. No lights flickered, no movement within betrayed the fact that not everyone was sleeping this night.  
  
Laura stood at the door to her balcony, gazing out across the harbour to where the horizon was devoid of any sails. Her dark hair fell about her face, moving lightly as the wind blew in through the open window, cooling her skin. She wrapped her shawl tighter about her, never once taking her eyes from that distant horizon and wishing that black sails would appear as she watched.  
  
She missed them all terribly, not only her cousin, but Marin and Jack, and most of all James. In the months since their departure, she had been bullied into taking part in the social events on the island, but after the wildness that was her cousin and her cousin's friends, they all seemed so stuffy and boring to her. Of course, it did not help that Captain Gillette had set his cap for her and was pursuing her romantically at every opportunity. She didn't know how long she could keep him away, prevent his asking for her hand. She had no excuse to give him. Her promise to James had not been made formally, and so she could not cite herself as taken, much to her chagrin.  
  
Oh, how she longed for James to return! Her heart seemed to ache continually, as though it were bleeding in his absence, crying tears of blood until he came back to soothe the pain. She got through each day with a memory of him close to her heart, and her nights were filled with dreams of her handsome commodore. The worry that he might have been lost at sea, or killed in an accident, haunted her constantly. She did not know what she would do should he not return.  
  
Suddenly a violent gust of wind swept over the town, slamming her shutters open and whirling about the shivering young woman before whistling back out across the town once more and out to sea. Shocked, Laura stared out at the Caribbean, suddenly unable to shake the feeling that something momentous had happened. For just one moment, she had felt a presence so familiar it was a balm to her soul.  
  
'James?' she whispered, her eyes searching out the tiny cyclone that had brought him to her so briefly.   
  
There was no answer, though she had expected none. Laura smiled faintly, wondering what on earth had happened. Soothed by that all too brief contact with the man she loved, she closed the window, slipping back beneath the sheets with a weary sigh. Soon, she told herself, he'll come back to me soon.  
  
And far out to sea, whistling and wailing like the cry of the banshee, a rush of wind was returning to its source, in the eye of the storm, in sight of the land of eternal flames.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Jack leant back wearily, stretching his tired muscles as he watched Marin scribble in her note book, something she did not do very often. But this evening she seemed fired up with enthusiasm, determined to get whatever it was rolling around her head down on paper. Every so often she'd glance up, frowning at nothing, and then dive back into the book, the quill scratching across the paper with a purpose.  
  
Bemused, Jack rubbed his eyes, thinking over what they had done that day, and the plans for the next few months. What gold they were taking back with them had been brought on board the two ships that day, five chests for each of the three inheritors. Even to Jack, five chests of gold for one person seemed a little over the top, though he knew what his wife intended to do with hers, after paying the crew handsomely. Danielson's share of the gold was left untouched, by mutual agreement, his part of the silver doubloon and the locket that had held it for generations now resting, hopefully in peace, at the bottom of the little cavern's waters, along with a huge amount of ballast from both the Pearl and the Dragon, since the gold weighed so bloody much.   
  
Marin glanced up again, her forehead creased in thought.  
  
'Jack?' she ventured, staring out of the window of their cabin.  
  
He opened one eye to look over at her.  
  
'Aye?'  
  
'How much stone would you need to build a village of about twelve houses?' Marin asked, turning to face him.  
  
Jack stared at her, trying his hardest not to laugh under her stern stare.  
  
'Love, why're you asking me?' he asked her, leaning forward. 'I'm a sailor, not a builder.'  
  
She shrugged.  
  
'You're here, and I can't add up very well,' was the demure reply, though he could see her mind was already on other things.  
  
He sighed, moving to lean over her and read what she had written. Marin made an irritated noise, but she didn't try to stop him as he read along her lists of building materials, provisions, medical supplies, everything she could think of that would be needed to start up her haven for pirates and their families.   
  
'Still going on with this haven idea, then?' he murmured, dropping a light kiss on her hair.  
  
She smiled faintly.  
  
'Why should I not?' she said. 'Especially now.'  
  
Jack frowned.  
  
'Now?' he asked, confused. 'What's so special about now?'  
  
Marin bit her lip guiltily, grateful she had her back turned to him so he couldn't see her alarmed expression. She still hadn't managed to tell him about the imminent bundle, and the longer she left it, the harder it got.  
  
'Well, we're going to need somewhere to base ourselves, aren't we?' she said, matter-of-factly. 'After all, it would be nice to have somewhere to call home. Somewhere we can watch our children grow up in safety.'  
  
Jack nodded, smiling as he sat back with his feet on the table.  
  
'Aye, that it would,' he agreed. 'But we have a long time ahead of us to think about that, don't we?'  
  
She fell silent, holding his gaze with a calm that seemed akin to the serenity he had seen about her on their wedding day. His smile faded slowly as she glanced down at the table, her gaze rising again to meet his with apprehension. Jack's eyes grew wary, and he lowered his feet to the deck, leaning forward to look at his wife more closely.  
  
'Don't we?' he repeated, feeling the silence in the cabin wrap about him protectively.  
  
He watched her swallow nervously, her fingers picking at a splinter in the table.   
  
'We don't have as long as you think, Jack,' she said softly, tearing her gaze from his as his eyes widened in shock.  
  
Jack drew in a deep breath, trying to stop his head spinning as he regarded her, looking suddenly very vulnerable and alone as she sat before him.   
  
'How long do we have?' he asked her gently.  
  
Marin couldn't lift her eyes to meet his again, afraid that her news would somehow drive him away.  
  
'Solomon says about five months, maybe less,' she murmured in a tiny voice.   
  
His eyes closed slowly as he exhaled in a rush, leaning back against the chair with a thump. A baby . . . his baby, his son or daughter was growing inside Marin. He was a father. What a thought. Captain Jack Sparrow, infamous pirate of the Caribbean, was going to be a father.  
  
'Jack?'  
  
He opened his eyes, hearing the frightened hitch in Marin's voice that meant tears were not far away. She was still sat where she was, her eyes wide and stormy as she looked on him, her whole body tensed for his reaction.   
  
'Jack, say something, please,' she ventured, half afraid that he would never speak to her again.   
  
He rose quietly, moving to pull her to her feet before him, keeping her hands held in his own as he gazed down at her. A smile broke across his face.  
  
'A baby?' he asked her, laughter edging his words. 'We're going to have a baby?'  
  
Before she could answer, he wrapped his arms about her tightly, lifting her off her feet and spinning about the cabin, laughing at this astonishing turn of fate. Infected by his laughter, Marin joined in, a little shocked at this display of pure good humour from her pragmatic husband. As he set her on her feet, she barely had time to regain her balance before he kissed her, holding her as close as he dared in the tender embrace.   
  
Pulling back slightly, he rested his forehead against hers, gazing down at her with eyes that almost glowed with happiness. Marin smiled shyly back up at him.  
  
'I take it you're not unhappy then?' she asked.   
  
Jack grinned that familiar grin, and suddenly everything was alright again. He kissed her nose gently.  
  
'Not unhappy, no, love,' he told her, holding her close against his chest.  
  
A thought suddenly occurred to him and he leant back, quickly checking her over. Bemused by his sudden concern, Marin batted his hands away.  
  
'What's wrong?' she laughed.  
  
'Did I hurt you?' he asked her, seeming almost frantic with worry. 'When I picked you up, did I . . . squash anything?'  
  
Marin stared at him, incredulous, for a moment, before falling about laughing.   
  
'No, no, Jack,' she spluttered, trying to regain control of herself before her husband burst a blood vessel. 'I'm fine.'  
  
He nodded, his eyes no less wild than before. His hand hovered above her midriff.  
  
'And . . . ?'  
  
Marin's smile grew gentle. She reached out to take his hand, laying it carefully over her womb. The look on his face was priceless, one she would treasure for the rest of her life.   
  
'We're both fine,' she said softly, as his gaze dropped to his hand on her stomach, his fingers moving gently across her midriff.   
  
Jack's eyes lit up in wonder as his palm lay flat against the place his child was growing. He barely felt Marin's hand against his cheek until her lips touched his, and his world fell apart in flames. But as he drew her against him, he found another space in his heart had been filled with wonder and expectation. They were going to be a family, a thought that seemed to cushion him in contentment as Marin drew him down beside her, her touch a loving caress.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hehehehe . . . I suppose now would be a bad time to ask you to point and click on the little blue button, yes? *suspiciously bright giggle* 


	11. Rounding The Horn

Hello! Look, I've got another chapter out already! Be proud of me! *snigger* Actually, I've got a week off work, so I'm planning to work particularly hard on getting more of this done for you guys. Is that alright? I mean, I wouldn't want to put you under pressure to review, or anything, but you know I do work faster when people do bother to point and click on that little blue button down there. *futile gesturing* Anywho, on with the story!  
  
*~*~*  
  
James woke with a start, shaking his head groggily as he tried to work out what had woken him. The ship pitched suddenly, throwing him from his bunk with a violence he was slowly becoming used to, and he heard the cry again, the shout that had drawn him from his dreams.  
  
'All hands on deck!'  
  
Wrenching open the cabin door, he staggered out and up onto the deck, with the others, gasping as icy water rushed up to meet them, warm and dry from their beds. Such was the pleasure of rounding the Horn. Peering through the darkness that cloaked the ships, James could make out a vast expanse of black covering the deck, and realised to his horror that it was sailcloth. Glancing up, he saw the broken horses flapping in the gale, the braces loose as the Pearl rode the storm.   
  
There were men already up in the rigging, fixing that which had been broken, clinging on for dear life as the seas tossed the ship about from wave to wave, relentless, merciless as she chided them for taking this return voyage for granted. He moved to join them, climbing dextrously through the half secure ropes, tying off everything that came to hand as Gibbs continued to roar orders above the storm.   
  
There was a shout from above him, and a figure tumbled past, scrabbling for purchase on the slippery rope. James grabbed for whoever it was, missing by mere inches, and found himself watching as the poor soul fell, hoping for someone to intervene. However, it was no seaman who saved the young man's life, but the Pearl herself, rolling on the up-current of yet another wave. Where there had been the raging waters beneath the falling man, now there was deck, and he landed with a thud on the canvas that had been stowed near the poop. He lay there, dazed, for a few moments, allowing himself to be dragged from the canvas and ushered below decks as James watched.  
  
Another, more familiar voice cried out nearby, and he glanced up to find Harry clinging onto the yard with all his might, unashamed to sob in paralysed terror at the violence of the storm that raged around them. James' foot slipped suddenly as the ship swayed, leaving him to scrabble for a moment until he found purchase once again on the soaked rope. Glancing out across the yard once more, he could see Harry's toes slipping along the rope he stood on, his fingers trying to grip where there were no handholds for the young boy. And the yard was shaking, the braces still loose from the sail being ripped away by the force of the sudden gale. Harry's wails were barely audible above the howling of the wind, but James could see that the young lad was petrified.  
  
As he reached out along the yard to grasp the boy's hand, cold fingers clasped about his wrist, and he found himself staring into Jack's grim face. The pirate captain was known to occasionally venture into the rigging, but never had he done so in the midst of a storm. He grimaced through the salt-water that dripped from his face.  
  
'We need to secure the brace!' he shouted, thankfully clear through the deafening roar around them.  
  
He pointed to where the yard was attached to the main mast, and James nodded, flexing his numb fingers swiftly before reaching out to clamber into place beside the shaking brace. He heard Jack shout out to Harry behind him.  
  
'Lay out, mate! We'll get you down!'  
  
As Jack slipped through the rigging as though he did it every day of his life, James watched, helpless, as Harry swung his leg over the yard itself, laying his body's length along the smooth wood. His fingers touched beneath the yard, and James saw the knuckles whiten as Harry clung on tighter than he ever had before. Jack gripped his arm.  
  
'Ever done this before?' he shouted.  
  
James nodded.  
  
'Once,' he bawled back, 'on a calm day.'  
  
Jack laughed, clearly enjoying the exhilaration of their predicament. He gestured to the yard, and down to where Cotton was clambering towards them.  
  
'You fix it, we'll hold it,' he yelled, and there was no mistaking the tone, it was an order.   
  
Something primal and automatic in James leapt up in response to that tone, and he nodded to the captain curtly, blowing on his fingers to try and force some feeling into them. Cotton's hand slapped onto his shoulder for a moment, until the mute man had gained his grip, and he and Jack Sparrow clambered a little higher, slipping their feet through the rope loops. With an exchanged grin, the two men promptly let go, hanging upside down into the midst of the roaring gale, their hands seeking purchase on the yard as James began to fiddle with the brace.   
  
It seemed like an eternity to Harry, flat out along the yard itself. He had confessed to Marin his dislike of heights as they had set out from Port Royale, and she had assured him that one brush with a bad storm would set his mind straight on that. He didn't half hope so, provided that he survived this terrible storm. He had been among the first to venture into the rigging after the sail fell, staying out along the yard long after he should, transfixed by the motion of the ship through the towering waves. Then the yard had started to shake, and fear had taken over him, leaving him crying for someone, anyone, to save him.  
  
Slowly the yard stopped shaking, and he ventured a look up towards the mast to find the captain leaning out towards him, reaching out to take his hand. He was still too far away, and so frozen with fear that he dared not move. As James and Cotton moved to continue their tasks, Harry shut his eyes, wishing it would all just go away. A voice cut through his fear, making him look up once more into the captain's eyes.   
  
'Come on, mate,' Jack was shouting. 'You can do it! Just a bit further and we'll have you safe!'  
  
Harry opened his mouth to refuse point blank and a wail filled his ears. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he shook his head vehemently.  
  
'I can't!' he cried, gripping the yard tighter as the Pearl hit another wave full on, the masts swaying deep.  
  
Jack's features contorted into an attempt at an encouraging smile.  
  
'Yes, you can,' he roared. 'Just a little bit closer, mate, and I'll have you!'  
  
He continued to cajole the terrified child, until finally Harry began to move. Carefully, never very much at a time, he began to edge along the yard towards the mast, his hand reaching out to where Jack strained towards him, one hand firmly entangled in the rigging on which he stood. The captain's callused fingers brushed his for a moment, and he knew if he could just slip forward a tiny bit more, that practised hand would clamp about his wrist and he would be safe.   
  
A jolt shook the ship as she crashed into another wave, and Jack was forced to grab the rigging to prevent himself from falling, even as Harry cried out once more. But he threw out his hand as soon as he was secure, and this time his fingers gripped the boy's arm. Jack hauled roughly on the cold limb, and Harry slid along the yard, grasping handfuls of rope and slipping his feet into the loops with relieved sobs. Jack wrapped his free arm about the weeping boy, holding him tight against the horror that was flooding him now the danger was past.  
  
'It's alright, Harry lad, I've got you,' he murmured, though he knew the child could not hear him. 'You're safe now, mate.'  
  
A shout drifted down to him from the foretop, where men were endeavouring to furl the last sail before returning to the relative safety of the deck. He bawled up to them,  
  
'Frap it! Don't bother to furl the bloody thing, frap it! And get back down safe!'  
  
With this order in place, he leant down to look at his young companion. Harry gazed back with eyes still wild from his shock. Jack gestured towards the deck, setting his free hand the other side of the frozen boy so that he was protected from falling by his captain's body. Slowly, almost painfully, they descended, Gibbs lifting Harry down from the ropes with a gentle smile. As Jack jumped down, he grasped Harry's shoulder, steering the boy towards the great cabin, where he had ordered Marin to stay within during the storm. She accepted the boy into her care willingly, having watched the whole affair from where she stood, her face almost pressed against the glass of the doors. Crewmen were sliding down the ropes now, their feet hitting the deck with relieved thumps, all turning to receive their captain's orders with grim faces.  
  
Marin rocked Harry gently, uncaring that he was soaking her clothes, only that the boy had had a truly terrifying experience and needed care to calm himself. Harry was still sobbing, clutching at her as she held him. Carefully, she sat him down on one of the chairs, moving to wrap a blanket about the shivering boy as his tears continued to flow.  
  
'Shh, it's alright,' she murmured, holding him warmly as he shook. 'You're safe now.'  
  
Harry drew in a huge breath, trying to calm himself.  
  
'I'm sorry, miss,' he managed. 'I . . . I'm being foolish.'  
  
'Oh, don't be ridiculous,' Marin scoffed. 'I don't know many sailors who could go through all that without some fear. And this is not the finest weather you'll ever see.'   
  
Her wry tone did what it was supposed to. Harry smiled reluctantly, sniffing as his sobs faded to sniffles. Gently, she dried his hair, pulling out clothes from a chest nearby for him to change into. As he ventured out of the blanket, she obligingly turned her back with a smile, only to have it fade as she gazed out onto the deck.   
  
The men were staggering around, securing everything that could even be hinted at as loose as firmly as they could. The water lashed down on them, the wind whipping at their clothes and numbing their skin. She hated being left out, but Jack had been adamant in his refusal to let her take even one step out on deck during the storm, and as she watched, she could not deny that she would not like to be out in such conditions. Jack had been speaking with Gibbs by the doors, making sure she knew what was going on, when Harry's frightened yells had filtered down to them. She'd never seen Jack move so quickly. He had made straight for the rigging, clambering up to James' side with all the speed and grace of a cat.  
  
There was another sniff behind her, and she glanced down to find Harry, dry and warm, staring out at the storm with a apprehensive expression.   
  
'You don't have to go out there again, if you don't want to,' she said softly, reaching out to prevent him tumbling away as the ship lurched again.   
  
Harry grinned faintly, pale from his experience, but his eyes were determined.  
  
'If I don't go out now, I never will,' he said, just as softly as she had spoken.   
  
Pride filled her as she looked down on him, pride that this young lad who had been such a terrible pickpocket had somehow become a good sailor. She grasped his shoulder.  
  
'Are you sure?' she asked.  
  
His grin became more confident and he nodded firmly.  
  
'As I'll ever be,' he told her, reaching out to open the door.  
  
Before he turned the handle, though, he turned back to her, wrapping his arms about his captain's wife in a heartfelt hug. Surprised, Marin's arms came up to hold him gently, falling away as he stepped back.  
  
'Thanks,' he said shortly, his eyes dropping to her waistline. 'And, ah . . . congratulations.'  
  
Marin stared after him as he slipped out into the rain, the door slamming shut behind him. How on earth had he known about the baby? She cast her mind back, and found her answer. When he'd come to inform her and Solomon that they were going ashore, he had seemed a little flustered. He must have overheard their conversation. She smiled gently. Maybe telling people wouldn't be as hard as she had thought it might, especially if Harry had mentioned his suspicions to someone.  
  
Her attention was snapped back to the scene outside sharply as another wave crashed across the deck, knocking the men off their feet. A familiar hand slammed into the railing by the steps, the silver ring flashing through the water as Jack heaved himself back onto his feet. He grinned through the glass at his wife, and Marin couldn't help but laugh. No matter the situation, how deadly or frightening it may be, there was always something there for Jack to enjoy. And he did love the ocean.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ildera: How's that for nautical action? Right, well, since I actually read that note ff.net have put up about no more A/N chapters *incomprehensible grumbling* I guess the A/N is just going to have to stay here, at the end of each chappie. Ah well.  
  
Jack: Get on with it, love, I've got places to go.  
  
Will: Ignore him, 'dera. He's just got this odd idea that Ioade and Kate are going to castrate him if he's late for Ariandir's reviews this time.  
  
Jack: It's no laughing matter, mate.  
  
Will: *trying not to snigger* I'm sure it isn't, Jack.  
  
Ildera: *openly laughing* Definitely not. *cough* Anywho, let's get started. If I miss anyone, I apologise in advance, it's been a busy few days.   
  
Will: anonymous - I'm assuming you're all the same person, though I can't be sure - yes, it was a horrendously long time before she updated, wasn't it? Shame on you, Ildera.  
  
Ildera: *sweetly* Will, do you want to survive til the end of the story?  
  
Will: *alarmed* Point taken. *back to review* As for Jack trying to shoot Marin, well, we only had two ways of finding out if the curse was still active - the moonlight, and whether or not you can kill the person. Jack just couldn't be bothered waiting for the moonlight to come out again. *shakes head at Jack*  
  
Jack: *shrugs* Not my fault. *glances at 'dera*  
  
Ildera: *sigh* They're so supportive, aren't they? *hugs Lucy back* Lucy, I'd never abandon you guys! Like I said, I've just be extraordinarily busy, but I will try and get more out this week, I promise!  
  
Jack: *reading* JacksFoxyLass . . . I have a foxy lass?  
  
Ildera: Just answer the review, I'll explain later.  
  
Jack: Fair enough. I agree, it is - what was your word? - coolness that a baby is coming. But, bloody hell, can you imagine me as a father?  
  
Will: God, what an image. !meghan!, are you happy Chapter 9 wasn't the end? It wouldn't have done well as an epilogue, would it? And 'dera's computer doesn't do upside down exclamation marks, so sorry about the inaccuracy of your s/n.  
  
Jack: S/n? Hark at you, master technology.  
  
Will: It's better than trying to open the bloody thing to find the demon that drives it.  
  
Jack: That only happened once, under the considerable influence of alcohol.  
  
Will: Jack, you're always under the considerable influence of alcohol.  
  
Jack: Not always, mate. Anyway -  
  
Ildera: Boys, please, for heaven's sake! *rolls eyes* emma436, MarsMoonStar, Siremaik, The Lonely Mouse, Ange, lilitalien dragon, Jingle Bells' Jack, The Noble Platypus, and Easter Bunny of Jo Jo Crayon, many, many thanks for your loyalty and considerable support. Remember, pestering me is the best way of ensuring I don't forget to update!  
  
Jack: Ah, at least she's honest about it.  
  
Will: Mind you, honesty in a woman is not always a good thing.  
  
Jack: Yeah. 'Specially whores. I mean, you don't want one to roll over afterwards and blurt out the truth, do you?  
  
Ildera: That's enough of that conversation, thank you.  
  
Jack: You're such a prude, 'dera.  
  
Ildera: It's better than being a slut, Jack.  
  
Jack: *shrugs* I suppose so. But sluts have a lot going for them, as well -  
  
Will: Ariandir! Hello, my lady! It's nice to see you haven't given up on our 'dera, thank you very much. But when are you going to reply to her email?  
  
Ildera: Will, I can make my own pathetic pleas myself, thank you.  
  
Will: Well, I thought you'd want to concentrate on this one. *hands over review*  
  
Ildera: *reads* Oh God, Savy, what have I done now? Do I deserve to be glared at and threatened with the plank? I've produced two chapters in three days, and I've promised more. What more can I do? And while I remember, yes, the wench from Tortuga will be making an appearance, I've written her into my plan.  
  
Will: *blushes*  
  
Jack: *falls about laughing*  
  
Ildera: Sparrow's Pearl, heya! Sorry about the long wait, love, work and all. The fics I recommended are 'The Sundered Map', by Ariandir, 'Cry', by Innocent Princess, and 'The Guidelines of Jack Sparrow', by DarkLady2. Okay?  
  
Will: *still blushing*  
  
Jack: *wheezing because he can't breathe*  
  
Ildera: Dell-Doo, happy now? I updated! And Joe lost my disc so I had a lot of downloading and re-writing to do, but hey, I'm back in business, right? *glances at the men, sigh* I guess I should take these two home. See ya later, guys.  
  
Will: *blushing*  
  
Jack: *laughing*  
  
Ildera: *sighing* Bye! 


	12. Freedom

As promised, more of the fic during my week off. In fact, you're getting four chapters! So never say I don't do anything for you *grin*. Oooh! I'm going to take this opportunity to plug a songfic I posted a couple of days ago, Blood of My Blood; is anyone going to read it? Ariandir had better, it's got the answer to that question about Jack's scar you asked me. Anywho, on with the story!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Jack glanced across at the Dragon, squinting against the glare of sunlight off the sea, Will beside him shading his own eyes. They were about a month away from Jamaica, by his reckoning, the tip of South America just coming within sight on the horizon. At the sighting of land earlier that day, spirits had raised from the depths that the Horn had sent them. They had a lost a couple of good men on their return through the Magellan Straits, lost overboard in the fury of the storms that raged about them. In response to the upsurge in brightness that hung over them, there had been a great deal of traffic between the two ships, hence the presence of Will and Elizabeth aboard the Pearl, and Solomon aboard the Dragon.  
  
There was a laugh from the main deck, and he glanced down to where Dugan had been roped into teaching Harry, finally, how to use his cutlass. As they tested one another, feinting left and right, Marin circled them, correcting their stance with gentle hands and soft voice, offering advice to whomever had ended up at a disadvantage. Strangely enough, Dugan did not seem to fight as well aboard as on land, and Jack wondered if his wife's erratic style had anything to do with that. The Scottish lad had seemed to rely on the scenery around him to win his fights, yet on board a ship there was only a limited amount you could rely on a cannon to do, and it was not likely to be in the direction you were fighting anyway.  
  
A soft smile lit up his dark eyes as he spied her hand move to rest on the bump that was emerging at her waist. Even though she was six months along, and blooming with it, he still couldn't quite believe that he was going to be a father, that his Marin was going to bear their child within the next few months. He was still too protective of her, he knew, but he would rather cozen her too much than take the risk of losing her in a careless accident. But Solomon had had a point when he had taken his captain to one side and told him rather forcefully to back off and let Marin make decisions for herself.   
  
A impatient sigh nearby warned him that James was approaching, and he grimaced lightly. Ever since they had begun to sail though waters the commodore knew, he had been almost intolerable, complaining bitterly that they could make better speed than this. Jack knew this was only because he was impatient to see Laura once more, but still cautionary words had had to be put about the crew to prevent permanent damage coming to their friend.   
  
'Should she be doing that?' James asked suddenly, nodding down to where Marin had taken a suddenly active part in the lesson.  
  
Jack gave him a look.  
  
'Would you like to tell her she shouldn't?' he said pointedly, ignoring Will as he snorted in an attempt to keep his amusement under control.  
  
James held his gaze for a moment, reluctantly giving into the laughter beneath the surface. He was finding it increasingly difficult to return to being Commodore Norrington, much preferring to be James, the pirate's cousin. His laughter came far more easily than before, and he found no shame in calling these people his friends. When he returned to Port Royale, that would have to change, he knew, but could not fathom how, when life seemed so much more worth it from James' point of view.  
  
The news of his cousin's pregnancy had hit him hard, though he was exceptionally pleased for the two of them. Marin had taken him to one side, sensing his ambivalence, and it had all come pouring out. How he preferred to be as he was now, at one with the ocean, among a crew of men who he respected and liked. How he dreaded returning to the restrictive etiquette of Port Royale's social circle, and hear those he now thought of as friend and family degraded and insulted before him. His fears that perhaps he was not the man who had left Jamaica, and if so, how could Laura love him when he had changed so much?  
  
There were so many doubts crowding his mind, and yet one thing had remained completely clear, only clarified even more by the increasing signs of Marin's condition. He wanted to marry Laura and start a family with her. It was the only ambition in his heart anymore. He no longer wanted to see every pirate in the Caribbean swing, knowing now as he did that they were good men forced into a life that was misrepresented by so many. All he longed for, all he dreamt of was to see his personal life as settled and happy as that of his cousin and friend. Was it really so much to ask?  
  
'Has she managed to convince you into her safe haven yet?' he asked his companions, pushing such thoughts away from his mind and heart.   
  
Seeing Will's dejected sigh, since they both knew what Elizabeth decided would be done, Jack chuckled.  
  
'I have to say, mate, I'm almost convinced that it would work,' he admitted, his eyes growing serious.  
  
James nodded slowly, waiting.  
  
'But - ?' he prompted.   
  
Jack sighed.  
  
'I can't live a life ashore,' he murmured. 'The Black Pearl is my freedom, my world. I'm a rover, I always have been.'  
  
His companion smiled faintly, understanding the captain's reservations implicitly.  
  
'But wouldn't you like to have somewhere you can call home?' James asked.  
  
The captain's smile was almost ironic.  
  
'Never had a home to call my own, mate,' he said, his voice as soft as before. 'I have wondered what it's like, for gentlemen such as yourself, of course, to have a place to settle, somewhere to come back to. But I need the chance to rove should I wish, the freedom that only the Pearl can give me.'  
  
'And if Marin chooses to remain ashore?' Will pressed him. 'What then? Will you just abandon her to bring up your child alone while you pursue your freedom?'  
  
Jack's eyes were dull with the pain that such a choice would bring to him, unable to give his friend the answer he sought. James nodded, exchanging an understanding glance with Will as he reached out to squeeze the pirate's shoulder.  
  
'Maybe the freedom isn't in the Pearl,' he suggested. 'Maybe it's in you. Something to think on, eh?'  
  
He nodded once more to his friend and moved down to join the crew on the main deck, leaving Jack to stare after him, his mind reeling. The Pearl had always been his freedom, his world . . . how could he even think of leaving her to pursue a life ashore? But then, during those long months he had spent ashore in Port Royale, amid the bustle and dirt of the town, he had felt restricted, trapped, but only when he was out of sight of Marin. She had somehow distracted him from the longing within him to return to the ocean, though how he could not tell. And on her island, surrounded by the natural scenery of a Caribbean habitat, would he wish for the freedom of the seas? Could he leave the woman he loved to raise his child alone, as James had said?  
  
He shook his head violently, forcing such thoughts away as he gazed down at his wife. Feeling his eyes on her, Marin looked up, sending him a sweet smile that seemed to warm his blood as his lips curved in answer. Matthew squirmed in her arms, turning himself about to look her in the face. His grasping hand found a single lock of her copper hair and tugged, making her laugh as Elizabeth hurried to protect her friend's scalp.  
  
Will glanced at Jack, touched once more by the obvious longing for family he could see in his friend's eyes. He could remember clearly the exultation that had rung through the captain's words when he told them his good news, so exuberant it was hard not to get caught up in it. This safe haven idea was a wonderful one, but he could not help but wonder if it would eventually tear his friend apart.   
  
A cheer from the deck below them caught his attention, Will turning to see Harry standing over Dugan with a triumphant grin, the Scottish boy's sabre held in his hand like a trophy. Will grinned. With such diversions as these, with any luck Jack would not think of it at all until after his son or daughter was born.  
  
Suddenly a shout echoed down to the laughing crew.  
  
'Sail ho!'  
  
Gibbs didn't even bother to glance at Jack before shouting up the reply. Will swallowed a laugh at his friend's expression.   
  
'Where away?'  
  
A head appeared over the edge of the crow's nest with a slightly embarrassed grin plastered across it. He gestured wildly to the horizon ahead of them.  
  
'I dunno,' he shouted down. 'That way!'  
  
This time it was Jack's turn to swallow a laugh as Gibbs' expression dared anyone to comment. They moved to stare out across the water at the approaching ship, which appeared to be pursued by another, smaller vessel. As the two ships drew closer, Jack and Will both pulled out their telescopes to peer at them.  
  
'I can't make out her flag,' Will muttered, and Jack grunted in agreement, unable to see any clearer than his friend.  
  
Beside them, James and Marin were more concerned with peering at the ship's sleek hull, wondering where they had seen such craftsmanship before. The commodore's eyes narrowed as the leading ship dropped yet more sails, putting on another burst of speed.  
  
'Well, whoever they are, they're headed straight for us,' Elizabeth said softly, Matthew strangely quiet in her arms as the two crews watched the approaching ships.  
  
Suddenly, James slapped the railing, making Marin jump in surprise.  
  
'It's the Dryad,' he announced.  
  
Jack stared at him.  
  
'How can you be so sure?' he asked, incredulous.  
  
'I did my first midshipman's term aboard her,' James said softly. 'I'd know that hull anywhere.'  
  
Marin smiled, leaning forward over the railing.  
  
'Then who's chasing Ana Maria out this far?' she asked, addressing her question to no one in particular.  
  
Elizabeth shifted Matthew about in her arms.  
  
'Well, we're in Portuguese waters, so I think it's safe to say that the ship hot on her heels is a man o' war,' she said matter-of-factly.   
  
Jack chuckled.  
  
'Trust Ana to irritate a nation whose language she can't speak,' he laughed, turning to glance about at the crew. 'Mr Gibbs, do we still have that mortar on board?'  
  
James' eyes widened as Gibbs nodded thoughtfully.  
  
'Ye be thinking to test her, cap'n?' he asked.  
  
Jack grinned.  
  
'Well, if she can clear a hill with one of those fizzing grenades, the Dryad shouldn't be much of a challenge, should it?' he said innocently.  
  
Gibbs laughed, turning to call a couple of the stronger hands to him. As they disappeared below decks, James held up a hand in disbelief.  
  
'How on earth did you get your hands on a mortar?' he asked incredulously. 'I mean, I know you're good, Jack, but you're not that good.'  
  
The captain laughed at his friend's expression.  
  
'I'm the best, mate,' he said unabashed. 'Compliments of the governor of Port Smith, that mortar is. Of course, he was locked in his own prison when we collected it, but such formalities can't be helped.'  
  
James' jaw dropped.  
  
'It was you who sacked Port Smith?' he said, ignoring Marin's sudden crack of laughter.  
  
'Actually,' Will interjected, grinning, 'we did. Together.'  
  
As Elizabeth nodded in agreement, James covered his eyes with his hand, shaking his head.  
  
'I don't want to know,' he muttered. 'I honestly do not want to even think about it.'  
  
Jack gave him a mocking little bow, and returned to watching the Dryad as she drew closer, her pursuer close behind. With a great deal of cursing, the heavy iron mortar was manhandled up on deck, placed with a thump that shook the timbers square in the centre of the main deck. Gibbs held an armful of what look liked cannon balls, each with a little fuse atop them. As Ana Maria's ship drew even closer, the mortar was loaded and aimed, high into the air.   
  
'Maybe we should warn Ana,' Marin said doubtfully as Jack lit the first fuse, loading the ball into the heavy piece.  
  
'And miss out on all the fun?' he grinned. 'Mr Gibbs, if you would be so kind.'  
  
Everyone backed away from the mortar as it spat out its fizzing grenade. They watched it sail gracefully over the sails of the Dryad to explode in the waters off the man o' war's bow. Jack shrugged.  
  
'I was never one to measure distance accurately,' he said off-hand, gesturing for Cotton to load the mortar again.   
  
Will nudged James, pointing to the poopdeck of the Dryad where a slender figure with long dark hair was gesticulating wildly in their general direction. From the look of things, sinking her pursuer was the last thing Ana wanted them to do.  
  
'I don't think I want to be here when Ana gets alongside,' he muttered.  
  
James laughed, nodding in agreement.  
  
'Admittedly, I've only met the woman once, but she does seem rather more spirited than others of her sex,' he said softly.  
  
'Spirited is putting it nicely,' Will commented, turning back as the mortar spat another bomb over the Dryad.   
  
This time, the thing hit the forecastle of the man o' war, exploding in a shower of fire and splinters as Jack punched the air triumphantly.  
  
'One more should do it, Mr Gibbs,' he chuckled gleefully.  
  
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, watching as he danced about the deck with a huge grin on his face. She glanced at Marin, who raised a hand to forestall whatever comment her friend was about to make.  
  
'Let him play,' she said tolerantly. 'If we stop him now, he'll sulk for weeks.'  
  
The third bomb flew silently through the air, and bounced when it hit the Portuguese deck. They could see men diving overboard to escape the thing as it rolled sedately down onto the next deck. There was a shot pause and then it exploded, followed shortly by a series of somewhat louder and more impressive explosions as the ship's magazine got caught up in the moment.  
  
When the smoke finally cleared, there was nothing to be seen of the Portuguese ship but floating debris, scattered across the ocean before them as the Dryad came alongside. They moved to the side to greet the captain of the Dryad as she swore loudly and explicitly in Jack's direction.  
  
'Lovely to see you again, Ana, my dear!' he called across to her.  
  
A well-aimed shot blew his hat off his head as an irate voice echoed across the water to where they stood.  
  
'Jack Sparrow, I'm going to kill you!'  
  
Jack blinked, his expression one of hurt surprise.  
  
'What have I done now?' he yelled back, almost deafening Will as the younger man leant back to avoid the echoes.  
  
Ana Maria's gestures grew even more articulate as she loaded her pistol a second time.  
  
'You sank my prize, you brainless fool!'  
  
Amid suspicious coughing from his companions, Jack ducked the next round that came sailing across the water to thud into the timber beside him. He glanced back at the Dryad, wincing as Ana began to load yet another bullet into her weapon.  
  
'I, er . . .' he muttered, bending almost double to hide beneath the rail and shuffling towards the hatch. 'I think I'll just check the charts again.'  
  
*~*~*  
  
Now, if you want to make me happy, you'll point and click on the little blue button now, and then continue reading, won't you, m'dears? 


	13. Welcome Home

Dusk had fallen on Port Royale, followed swiftly by one of the darkest nights in recent days, cloaking the town in blackness that seemed almost impenetrable. This on the heels of a fog that had obscured the sails sighted earlier that day and prevented their identification. It was not the best of Caribbean weather.  
  
Governor's House felt tense, uneasy, the governor and his sister-in-law sitting close by a window, their eyes gazing anxiously out at the darkness. But it was not the weather that had caused this sudden worry that enveloped them, for out on the bluff, Captain Gillette walked beside Laura. The time she had been dreading for weeks had come.  
  
'Miss Blythe?' he said, somewhat hesitantly.  
  
Laura turned to look up at him, suppressing the alarm that was steadily rising within her at the expression on the captain's face. Please no, she prayed. Don't do this, not now.  
  
'We have known one another for some time now,' Gillette began carefully, clearing his throat awkwardly. 'That is to say, I hope I may consider myself your friend . . .'  
  
Laura smiled, a little desperately, latching onto that phrase to save herself from what was to come.  
  
'Of course you may, captain,' she assured him. 'And likewise, I should hope that I am a friend to you.'  
  
Gillette didn't seem to pick up on the emphasis she used on the word 'friend', continuing with his uncomfortable recitation as he stared out across the darkened bay, sharp eyes picking up movement at the mouth of the harbour.  
  
'Without a doubt, Miss Blythe,' he hastened to assure her. 'But quite aside from that fact, I feel we have reached an easy friendship in these past few weeks, and I am most grateful for it.'  
  
Laura found herself unable to look at him, terrified that there was nothing she could do to prevent him from saying what she had no wish to hear. If only someone would come out to them, her mother perhaps, then she would have an excuse to stop his rambling before she had to give him an answer.  
  
'Forgive me for interrupting, captain,' she said suddenly, hoping to distract him, 'but have they managed to identify those three ships that were sighted this afternoon yet?'  
  
Gillette frowned, clearly displeased with her interruption but too much of a gentleman to ignore her query.  
  
'No, I don't believe they have, Miss Blythe,' he told her. 'Should they manage it before I leave this evening, a runner will be sent up to the house to inform us of the captains' names.'  
  
Laura nodded, turning away once more to stare out at the harbour mouth. She had so been hoping that the Black Pearl and the Dragon were among the three, perhaps escorted by another of their friends. Beside her, Gillette launched into another attempt to get what he had to say out into the open.  
  
'Ah . . .' he groped for the right words, determined to get this right this time. 'I . . . I must confess, Miss Blythe, I find it difficult to put into words what it is I want to say.'  
  
He risked a glance down at her, to find her eyes fixed on some point in the distant darkness, giving her an ethereal sense of deep and abiding patience. Taking this as a good sign, he plunged on.  
  
'Over these past few weeks, I have seen my regard for you rise from acquaintance, to friendship . . . and now, to something more.'  
  
Without quite realising what he was doing, he reached out and took her hand in his. Laura forced herself not to shudder, knowing now that there was no way she could avoid what was coming.  
  
'I would be honoured, Miss Blythe, if you would consent to be my wife.'  
  
Laura froze, unable to speak. She had no wish to offend or hurt the captain, but how could she not, when the only answer she felt able to give was in the negative? She couldn't meet his eyes, no more than she could move away, her hand held captive within his own. He was trembling slightly, and Laura realised that her answer meant a great deal to him. Perhaps he fancied himself in love with her . . . no, that was too terrible to even consider. He couldn't, he just couldn't.  
  
'Miss Blythe?' Gillette ventured, sounding a little anxious.  
  
She glanced up at him, her expression an agony of indecision. Somewhat alarmed, the captain dropped her hand, letting her walk away from him a few steps.  
  
'Forgive me if I have been too forward, Miss Blythe,' he said quietly, as though he knew her answer already. 'I am not accustomed to courting women such as yourself.'  
  
Laura closed her eyes, trying to shut it all out. How dare he propose to her without first asking her uncle? If he had done so, she would at least have had some warning as to when the penny would drop on him.  
  
There was a shout from the house, and they both turned to watch with wide eyes as Lady Rosemary Blythe came running towards them across the grass, skirts held in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.  
  
'Laura, you must read this,' she said breathlessly, thrusting the paper into her daughter's hands. 'I'm terribly sorry, Captain Gillette, but this is rather important news.'  
  
Laura's eyes scanned the paper, picking out words such as 'Pearl', and 'Dragon', and more importantly, 'entering harbour now'. She let out a little cry of joy, throwing her arms about her mother as Rosemary did the same to her.  
  
'They're here?' she asked, her green eyes aglow with excitement. 'They're really here?'  
  
Rosemary nodded cheerfully, both women having forgotten Gillette's presence for a moment.  
  
'They are,' she told her daughter. 'Weatherby is calling the carriage around to the front. We must go to greet them!'  
  
They set off across the grass, leaving the captain behind them. Laura stopped suddenly, turning to face him with an apologetic smile.   
  
'I'm awfully sorry, captain, but my cousin's ship has just sailed in, and we really should go to the dock,' she explained. 'You don't mind, do you?'  
  
Gillette forced a smile, knowing now that his commodore would reclaim the young woman as his own as soon as he set foot on the quayside.  
  
'I do not mind at all, Miss Blythe,' he said tightly. 'I shall make my own way down more sedately.'  
  
She threw him a beautiful smile, and hurried after her mother. Gillette sighed, snorting a little as a thought occurred to him.  
  
'The Englishman has won again,' he muttered, kicking out at a bush as he made his own way to where his horse was saddled and waiting for him.   
  
The carriage rumbled quickly down the slope, its occupants unfazed by the jolting they were enduring as they watched the three ships slip into spaces large enough for them in the harbour. As they had when the pirates had set off, shanties echoed across the still harbour as the hands hurried to secure the vessel before going ashore.   
  
Governor Swann stepped briskly from the carriage, turning to help the women out. Laura scrambled down, hurrying to the edge of the dock as longboats were lowered from both the Pearl and the Dragon. She felt more than heard her mother and uncle come to stand behind her, both as excited as the young woman but rather better at hiding it.  
  
The wait seemed interminable, but at last there was movement across the water as the boat from the Dragon pulled away from the ship and set out for the dock. After a few more minutes, the Pearl's boat did also, following in the wake of the longboat that bore Governor Swann's daughter, son, and grandson, towards him.  
  
The longboat thumped against the dock, and those waiting had to contain themselves as the occupants stepped ashore before greeting them warmly. As Elizabeth held her father close, Will found himself pulled into Rosemary's arms, a loud kiss planted on his cheek for surviving a trip she had been certain would kill them all. Released from the lady's grasp, he grinned down at Laura, accepting her somewhat gentler embrace with pleasure. Beside them, Governor Swann was exclaiming over the appearance of his grandson, who stood anxiously behind his mother's skirts waiting to be told everything was alright.   
  
There was another thump, and the second longboat came alongside. Will pulled Elizabeth away from Laura, knowing full well what was going to happen next. The young woman turned, and found herself face to face with a man she had dreamt about for months. James stared down at her, unable to speak, unable to move, simply content to gaze into her eyes. Likewise, Laura had lost all semblance of control over her ability to move or speak, her eyes fixed on those of the man standing so close to her as to be almost touching.  
  
Tactfully ignoring the couple where they stood, Rosemary glanced around them to where Jack was helping Marin out of the longboat and let rip with a squeal that nearly deafened her brother-in-law. She hurried forward to embrace the young woman, mindful of her bump as Marin laughed to see the lady so animated.  
  
'How wonderful to see you,' Rosemary breathed, holding the pirate girl close. 'May I?'  
  
She gestured hopefully towards the bump. Marin smiled.  
  
'Of course you may,' she told her friend.   
  
Rosemary crowed with delight and placed her hand on Marin's swollen belly, feeling the child within kick excitedly. Governor Swann smiled at the two women, taking Jack's hand for a firm handshake, surprising the irascible pirate.  
  
'Welcome back, Captain Sparrow,' he said warmly, meaning the words he spoke as he had not meant them before. 'And congratulations.'  
  
Jack let the older man shake his hand, his familiar grin breaking across his face.  
  
'Well, my thanks, mate,' he grinned.  
  
Swann's gaze flicked to where James and Laura were still staring at one another.  
  
'How long do you think that will go on?' he asked softly as Will came to stand with them.  
  
Jack shrugged.  
  
'I should think that silence is going to break any moment now,' he predicted.   
  
Her eyes were still that beautiful shade of sea green he had remembered, still sparkling with emotion as she returned his gaze. James could hardly believe that she was standing here before him. After so many months of dreams and hopes, here they were, together, and he could not think of anything to say to her. His mouth worked in silence, trying to form words that were dying on his tongue, when she stepped closer, standing taller to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.  
  
'Welcome home, James,' she murmured, drawing back to look into his eyes once more.  
  
'Laura?' he managed, his voice almost lost on the breeze.  
  
Her smile drew him in, welcomed him to her, as he slipped his arms about her waist, pulling her as close as he could, revelling in the possessive way her arms came up to hold him in return.  
  
'Dear God, how I've missed you,' he whispered to her, feeling her arms tighten about him in response to the almost feral longing that coloured his voice.  
  
'And I, you,' she murmured into his ear. 'Don't ever leave me so long again.'  
  
James felt his heart leap within him on hearing those words, drawing back slightly to look down into her eyes, to show her the depth of his feeling for her. His eyes fairly shone with love and adoration for the woman held securely in his arms.   
  
'Just say the word and I will never leave you again,' he swore, leaning down to kiss her lips.  
  
She gasped lightly at the intensity of his touch, but met him with a fervour that was easily his match. Her hands clutched at his coat sleeves as his fingers traced tender designs over her back, willingly letting him plunder her mouth as she held him fast. Breathless, he drew away again, thankful for the darkness of the night to hide their embrace from anyone who might be watching on from the fort.   
  
'Laura,' he breathed, savouring her name as it rolled off his tongue.  
  
They were so caught up in one another they didn't notice their companions move a little way down the dock, determined not to interrupt this very important moment. Laura gazed up at him, willing him to say what only an hour before she had been praying another man would not.  
  
'I . . .' he faltered, finding it so hard to put into words what he had wanted since the moment he left her side. 'You . . . perhaps you'd consider . . .'  
  
Laura held his gaze, trying not to laugh as he stumbled over his words in desperation.   
  
'What I'm trying to say is . . . would you . . . er . . .'  
  
His voice trailed off, his expression one of abject misery. Laura couldn't hold in her smile any longer. She stroked one finger along his cheek, soothing his fears with the loving touch.  
  
'Yes,' she told him simply. 'I would.'  
  
James' eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even managed to get the words out and she'd answered? Another thought hit him. She said yes.  
  
'Yes?' he repeated, not quite able to believe his ears.  
  
She nodded, her smile widening as his arms tightened about her. James let out a joyful bark of laughter, lifting her off her feet to kiss her once again.   
  
A little way down the dock, Marin nudged Jack, a triumphant grin on her face. He glanced down at her and groaned.  
  
'Alright, alright,' he muttered, digging in his belt pouch for a pound. 'I never would have thought him capable of it, though.'  
  
Marin smiled sweetly up at her husband, slipping the coins into her own pouch.  
  
'Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?'  
  
*~*~*  
  
There's a lonely little blue button down here . . . 


	14. Nicely Done

Governor's House was alive with light and music, the cream of Port Royale's society turning out to wish their steadfast Commodore Norrington the very best of married life. It had been one of the fastest courtships the port had known, James arriving back only a month before this day. All agreed the bride had been radiant, though a little exclusionist to those who felt they should have played a more prominent role in the wedding preparations. In fact, Laura had ignored all the not-so-subtle hints from the young women of the town - who had only begun to befriend her in the wake of the Commodore's return - and had forced Marin to assist Elizabeth and her mother in every detail.   
  
She stood close to her husband, one hand entwined with his, as they had been almost every moment since the priest had placed her hand in James'. He smiled down at her, and she felt herself blush prettily, feeling the possessiveness of his gaze with joy. He had changed in the months they had been apart, but she did not find it strange at all. Quicker to feel than he had been before, James had captivated her all over again, not allowing her a moment to doubt his love for her. Commodore Norrington very rarely came between them, only when their privacy was intruded upon.   
  
'Tired, love?' James murmured, nodding agreeably to some townsman who raised his glass in salute to the couple.   
  
She smiled, her eyes downcast for a moment as she fought the urge to blush again.  
  
'A little, perhaps,' she said softly. 'It has been a long day.'  
  
James' smile turned wicked for a split second, his eyes twinkling as he lifted her chin.  
  
'It promises to be a longer night,' he whispered, smothering her gasp of surprise with a soft kiss.   
  
Yes, Laura thought as she let herself be gathered into his arms, there was no doubt whom Commodore Norrington had spent the past half year with. Only Jack Sparrow's influence could have drawn out such a wickedly loving man from behind that cold facade.   
  
A polite cough intruded on the moment, and they broke away from one another to see Captain Gillette, looking everywhere but at them. James quickly suppressed a laugh, gently squeezing his bride's hand as she tensed on seeing her former suitor. Composing his features into a polite expression, he spoke to his officer.  
  
'Captain, thank you for coming.'  
  
Gillette's smile was wide and genuine, his eyes lighting up in the way that many do on seeing real love personified before them. He shook James' hand firmly.  
  
'I wouldn't have missed it for the world, sir,' he said heartily. 'Congratulations to you both, and many years of happiness to share.'  
  
Surprised by this out-pouring of real pleasure, Laura curtsied gently, allowing him a kiss on her cheek with a smile.  
  
'Thank you, Captain Gillette,' she smiled.   
  
He returned the smile with no trace of jealousy or longing, nodding to them both before bowing to take his leave of them. As he turned to go, James reached out to stop him, leaning down to say something that Laura didn't quite catch. Gillette laughed, glancing back at her before nodding again to his superior.  
  
'No, sir,' he said cheerfully. 'The best man won.'  
  
And with that, he slipped back into the crowd, leaving the newly-wed couple to exchange pleasantly surprised smiles as yet another swarm of guests descended on them to offer congratulations and best wishes.  
  
It was agreed that young Matthew Turner had been the true star of the day, exclaimed over and indiscriminately indulged by all who had attended. He was still very shy of this colourful, complicated world his parents had brought him back to, staying close to his grandfather for most of the day. Governor Swann believed his grandson's spirits would have drooped considerably, had it not been for the pirates present throughout the day. Gibbs, in particular, had been instrumental in providing chaos for the little boy to enjoy, coming out with some of the most absurd comments and cultures the governor had ever heard. Still, it was harmless fun, even if he would have to soothe a few ruffled feathers during the next few days.   
  
He glanced across the gathering, his gaze falling on a man who, a year before, he would never have permitted to even approach the island, let alone share an evening in his home. Jack Sparrow had refused to undergo his transformation into the respectable merchant once more, though Marin had insisted that he let her mend his shirt and coat before he even attempted to convince her that he could appear at such an elite gathering. The hint of an amused smile twitched at the governor's lips as he recalled the argument that had echoed through the old house the night before. Something to do with leaving him if he appeared in public unwashed, was the general consensus, though no one had even mentioned the subject when next they saw the couple.   
  
Still, Governor Swann could not find it in himself to dislike the pirate, who had done so much to redeem himself over the past year. Especially now, seeing him so much at ease with those who would wish him dead in other circumstances. Besides, with Marin by his side, who would dare to question the honour of Captain Jack Sparrow? The governor watched as the young woman in question slipped through the crowd to her husband's side, nodding in greeting to those who tried to slow her passage. The smile that had threatened to slip onto his face did so finally, as Jack wrapped an arm about his wife's back, pulling her close to kiss her forehead and run a loving hand over the swell of her waistline.  
  
Now there was something that would be worth following. The next generation of Jack Sparrow, be it male or female, would certainly have an act to follow. Particularly if the fascination young Matthew seemed to hold with the encroaching bump did not fade with the birth. Governor Swann was not a religious man, but he was not one to underestimate gods, especially those capable of sustaining such life as Barbossa's crew could have been accused of having. If the heathen gods were appeased, it was all well and good, but Swann held a suspicion that they still had a role to play in the fortunes of his family and friends.   
  
Jack grinned down at his young wife, admiring how at home she seemed in such a social setting. The wearing of a dress was the only concession the other women had wrung out of her, letting her red locks hang down across her back as she wished just this once. The baby moved under his hand, his gaze drawn down to watch the fabric of her skirt move with it, across her belly under his hand.   
  
'Doesn't it hurt, when it does that?' he asked curiously, still awed by the little things that affected Marin during her pregnancy. He was fairly certain he never wanted to experience the horror that her morning sickness had been, though the sitting up late at night talking when she couldn't sleep would be sorely missed when things settled again.   
  
Marin laughed softly, gently running her hand over her womb in an attempt to settle the child.   
  
'No,' she told him. 'It feels a little strange, I'll admit, but I'm so used to it now, I hardly notice.'  
  
Jack's smile was almost childlike in its wondering gaze, and Marin felt the shock of knowing something that her husband did not. She was constantly astounded that everything about their child was new and intriguing for him, when before he had known all there was to know about the world and its ways. Now she was the experienced one, guiding him through this new wonder, and trying not to look ahead to the moment when all her strength and will would be tested. God only knew how Jack would deal with what promised to be a trying time for them both.  
  
'Ah well,' Jack was saying casually. 'It's a Sparrow, like us. Good at doing things un-noticed.'  
  
His dark eyes twinkled in enjoyment as she laughed, still as pleased to be able to draw laughter from his serious little wife as he had been in the early months of their companionship. There were so many cares in her life, so many worries now that she had brought upon herself, that sometimes he despaired of ever leading the life he longed for, out on the open seas, his wife and child beside him.   
  
This safe haven for pirates was a wonderful idea, there was no doubt of that, but the preparations for it were taking more of a toll on Marin than she was prepared to admit. But he knew. He knew about the provisioners refusing to trade with her, the stonemasons making life difficult on the little island where they had been contracted to work, the pirates themselves and their families demanding more and more every day. Marin had made these people her own, and in doing so had given herself more trouble than she could ever have expected. And some day soon, he was going to do something about that.  
  
In fact, they had received information only that morning that something was amiss on the island, of arguments and fights making the work slow down even further. A young girl had made her way to Port Royale, determined to make sure that Marin knew exactly what was going on there. According to her, the former overseer of Robert Delaney's plantation, a Mr Thomas Redman, was not happy about the loss of his job and had enlisted his former employees to help him retain it, and his reign over the little island. Marin had insisted that they go out there and deal with it themselves, furious that something she was trying to do for other peoples' safety was being tampered with and slowed for no good reason. Jack had tried to talk her out of it, but she was adamant. Despite being so close to her time, she was not prepared to let this farce go on any longer.   
  
In the morning they would leave, the Turners joining them with the Red Dragon, to investigate this new obstacle that had beset the islanders. Will had insisted, though Jack had a fair idea who had persuaded him. Elizabeth hovered over Marin almost constantly now, determined to be at the birth of his child, as Marin had been at Matthew's. If Marin were to grow wings and fly off around the world in the next few days, Jack was certain Mrs Turner would propel herself by any means necessary in pursuit. As a matter of fact, so would he, but then, what man would leave his wife unattended so close to such a time?  
  
Across the room, Elizabeth dragged her attention from the Sparrows in an attempt to concentrate on something Lieutenant Groves' wife was saying. The woman was having a good old rant about something, but the governor's daughter had managed to miss most of it through her observation of her pregnant friend.  
  
'I'm sure I'm not being particular,' Therese was saying, blissfully unaware of her audience's lack of attention, 'but somewhere this has to be dealt with. We can't have people of her kind mixing with those of higher breeding, after all. Don't you think?'  
  
Elizabeth blinked, suddenly aware that she was now expected to answer.  
  
'I'm sorry, who?' she asked, stepping forward slightly.  
  
Therese Groves gave her an indulgent smile.  
  
'Why, Jack Sparrow's woman, of course,' she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'I understand that she is the commodore's cousin and all, but somewhere along the line he has to break with her. Indeed, his standing in society will be affected by his continued association with her.'  
  
With an immense effort, Elizabeth endeavoured to remain calm, drawing in a deep breath to aid her before answering.  
  
'Why should his standing be affected?' she inquired, perversely wanting her companion to make everything blindingly clear before she began to defend her friend.  
  
'My dear Elizabeth, she is a pirate,' Therese told her, in such a condescending tone that Elizabeth's teeth began to grind together in irritation. 'And a pirate's whore, to boot. Of course, she has chosen well in her man, but really, can we have the commodore of Fort Charles openly admitting his relations with such people?'  
  
Elizabeth straightened slowly, her manner growing cold as she looked on a woman she had once thought her friend.  
  
'Mrs Groves, I think you will find your information is flawed,' she said icily. 'Marin is no whore. She was married to Captain Sparrow a little over nine months ago, in a small ceremony that your husband attended. The child she carries is legitimate, and any acts of piracy that she has committed have been pardoned. Her bloodline is pure, in your terms; she is the daughter of a noble Irish house, and therefore on a par with the commodore himself. As for breaking with her, I rather feel that is up to James, and certainly has nothing to do with you.'  
  
Therese stared at her, shocked.  
  
'Well, I -'  
  
'And on those lines,' Elizabeth continued, cutting across the indignant exclamation, 'perhaps you should not be seen speaking with me. I am, after all, the wife of a lowly blacksmith and pirate, the mother of his son. Or does that not make me a pirate's whore as well?'  
  
The hapless woman's mouth worked, trying to find a way out of the cavern she had dug for herself with a few badly chosen words. As she struggled for words, Elizabeth nodded coldly to her, and turned away, moving to join her aunt where she stood a few paces from them. Lady Rosemary favoured Therese with a single hard look, and also turned her back, allowing her to smile unashamedly.  
  
'Nicely done, my dear.'  
  
*~*~*  
  
Little Blue Button: *excitedly* Click me! Click me and review! Go on, you know you want to! 


	15. Island Business

Husband and wife stood together at the helm as the Black Pearl approached the island. They could hear distant gunshots and shouting, exchanging alarmed glances at the level the disputes had descended to. What on earth could have happened for such a riot to break out? They could see the site for the village, a mass of timber and stone, only two buildings actually finished, and it was doubtful that either were habitable. The ground was scorched around old foundations, and Marin found herself seething inside, hating this man Redman for his interference.  
  
The girl who had come to tell them of the fighting, a whore named Savy, stood on the main deck beside Dugan, both transfixed on the island as the ships rounded the headland. The Red Dragon drew alongside, and together they made their way into the natural harbour, both crews horrified at the sight of a gallows built so close to the water, and a general brawl taking place around it. As they drew closer, Savy gasped aloud, gripping Dugan's hand as he reached out in alarm.  
  
'What is it?' he asked her, worried by her wide-eyed stare.   
  
She drew in a deep breath, obviously steadying herself, and glanced warily up at the helm, where Marin and Jack were listening unobtrusively.  
  
'It's Michael,' she said softly. 'My . . . he's one of my regulars. They're going to hang him!'  
  
And indeed they were, for it seemed that the pirates were being beaten back, one of their own returned to the gallows under armed escort, forced to stand atop the wooden frame as the noose was placed about his neck. As the ship drew closer, there were cries of recognition from the pirates aboard as well, Marin's grip on Jack's hand tightening as she recognised him as one of the Dragon's crew who had gone ahead of them.   
  
'Jack, I used to play with him,' she muttered. 'Do something, please.'  
  
Jack glanced down at her and coughed politely, calling out to one of his crew.  
  
'Hugh, do something about that, would you, mate?'  
  
Hugh, a swarthy man with bright, vicious eyes, nodded, clambering up into the rigging a little way for a clearer shot. They were now quite close to the island, the pirates preparing the ships to dock with little fuss. Hugh swung the musket he had commandeered from the British Navy at some point from his back, raising it to aim at the men on the gallows. There was a sharp crack, and the man who had placed the noose about the young pirate's neck fell backwards with a sharp cry of pain, blood spurting from his thigh.  
  
Shocked, everyone gathered there turned, the crowd stepping back a little when faced with two ships, bristling with armed men, bearing down upon them. Under the cover of fearful silence, the young man was dragged down from the gallows and hidden amongst his fellows, much to the relief of one young woman aboard the Pearl. His aggressor, a short, stocky man in his middle years, glared furiously at the ships.  
  
'What right have you to interfere in island business, stranger?' he demanded, his voice sounding harsh in the sudden quiet.   
  
Jack strode to the rail, his gaze cold as he looked on the man who had spoken.  
  
'The right of marriage, mate,' he called back. 'Would you be one Thomas Redman, by any chance?'  
  
Ignoring the question, the man moved forward, pushing through the crowd to stand at the edge of the dock. Marin marvelled at the crowd's restraint. If she'd been among them, he'd be in the harbour by now.  
  
'Right of marriage?' the man scoffed. 'Who would a pirate have to marry to gain rights over this island?'  
  
Jack glanced back at his wife, gesturing quietly for her to join him. She did so, noting the sudden confusion on the man's face.  
  
'The right person,' Jack said, his voice carrying clearly across the intervening water. 'Savvy?'  
  
The man glanced from Jack to Marin, and back again, before turning to address her.  
  
'And you would be?' he asked, a deal more politely than he had spoken before.  
  
Marin raised an eyebrow archly.  
  
'Your employer, Mr Redman,' she said, her voice hard. 'Or should I say, former employer. You were laid off a month ago. I do not believe you were invited to stay.'  
  
Thomas Redman stared up at the diminutive woman who addressed him, astonished to find such steel in a girl he had thought would just give up once she realised he would fight her at every turn.  
  
'Mrs Sparrow, a pleasure to see you,' he began, but Marin cut him off, unprepared to listen to any lies or false pleasantries.   
  
'Mr Redman, you have until sunrise tomorrow to have left this island,' she told him. 'Or you will be run off. Do you understand?'  
  
The pleasant expression dropped from Redman's face as the anger that had marked him out from the crowd returned to colour his cheeks purple with rage.   
  
'You cannot force me away, woman!' he shouted defiantly. 'My men control this island, and I intend to stay here! Pirates don't scare me, and nor do Irish witches!'  
  
At this, Jack's hand went to his pistol, stopped by Marin's gentle touch on his wrist. He glanced down at her, bemused by the humour in her eyes.   
  
'I've been called many things, but never a witch,' she murmured. 'I think it's quite a compliment, really.'  
  
She raised her voice again, ignoring Jack's half-hearted chuckle. It was clear that he would not let that insult to her stand unchallenged, no matter what she said.  
  
'Your men follow you because you pay them, Redman,' she called. 'Not from loyalty, or honour. If you truly wish to see who controls this island, why don't we meet face to face?'  
  
Redman laughed, the sound cruel and mocking as he glanced at his companions, the pirates from the gathering slowly moving aside.  
  
'Aye, we can meet,' he agreed, 'on a battlefield! Your pirates against my men, and we'll see who's really in control!'  
  
Before Marin could answer, Jack had done so for her, his hand still resting on his pistol.  
  
'Done!' he shouted. 'But war is no place for women. I will meet you in my wife's stead, on the headland at noon.'  
  
Redman paused, catching the look of indignation that coloured young Mrs Sparrow's expression as her husband's words echoed across the water.  
  
'Done!' he agreed again. 'And by God, we'll give you a pasting you'll never forget, Jack Sparrow!'  
  
He turned on his heel and stalked away, fully half the crowd from the dock following him as they ignored Jack's parting words.  
  
'Captain, it's Captain Jack Sparrow!' he called, turning to shrug at his wife. 'One day, everyone will remember the captain part.'  
  
Marin stared at him, sudden shock and worry ripping through her mind.  
  
'War?' she asked, her voice low. 'You really mean to fight him?'  
  
Jack smiled grimly, cupping her face between his hands.  
  
'Darling, men like Redman need a fight to convince them who is truly in charge,' he murmured, his hand descending to rest on her swollen belly. 'And I will not risk you, or our child, in a battle you shouldn't have to fight.'  
  
A ripple passed across her womb beneath his hand, and she gasped, gripping his sleeve for a moment as an expression of terror skittered across her face. Jack started, lifting her chin to look into her eyes.  
  
'What is it? What's wrong?'  
  
Marin forced herself to smile gently at him, despite the fear that was even now seeping through her. The sudden pain in her womb was too much as Elizabeth had described for it to be anything other than a contraction, but she wasn't about to tell her husband that so soon before a fight. She glanced at the sun, realising that noon was only a couple of hours away. Could she hide this from him until after the fight?  
  
Sharp eyes on land saw her pause, the grimace of pain that marred her pretty face for a moment, the gaze moving to her stomach, obviously swollen in advanced pregancy. Redman would be interested to hear this, he thought. The wife of his enemy in the throes of childbirth as her husband fights for control of what is rightfully hers . . . yes, Redman would find that very interesting.  
  
*~*~*  
  
That's your lot for now . . . and enjoy it while I'm gone for the next while, okay? *again with the gesturing towards the blue button* 


	16. An Eternal Struggle

Just a quick warning . . . character death! *ducks to avoid various glares, rotten fruit and veg, Sparrow's Pearl and Savy's plank, etc*  
  
*~*~*  
  
Dugan sat outside the little stone-built hut, gazing up at the headland where the men were gathered, two factions facing one another across an untouched battlefield. Behind him, in the hut, he could hear gasps and whimpers, assuming it was an argument taking place between the women. After all, they were difficult to understand when they spoke English, how could he expect to understand them when they communicated in a language of their own? His attention was fixed on the headland, so much so that he stood to find himself a better viewpoint of the battle to come.  
  
Suddenly there was a loud curse from the hut, and he spun, hearing Marin's unmistakable grasp of oaths in full voice. In alarm, he moved to enter, shoved out of the way by Savy as she came hurtling from the hut, her eyes wide. She grasped his arm to stop him going in.  
  
'Trust me, you really don't want to go in there, Dugan,' she said firmly.   
  
He frowned up at her, confused.  
  
'Why?' he asked. 'What's happening?'  
  
Savy rolled her eyes, refusing to relinquish her grip on his arm.  
  
'The baby's coming, idiot,' she snapped. 'I'm not staying in there. She's nuts.'  
  
Which she does she mean, Dugan wondered, before the import of what she was saying sank in.  
  
'Marin's babbie?' he asked stupidly. 'Coming noo?'  
  
'Yes, Dugan, it is,' Elizabeth said suddenly, appearing in the doorway. 'Savy, we need hot water and a shawl or something to wrap the child in. Dugan'll help you, and then he can run up to the headland and tell Jack. Is that alright?'  
  
She didn't wait for an answer, spinning back into the hut in response to another cry of pain from Marin, whom Dugan could see standing bent double over a chair.  
  
'Sweet Jesus, Elizab -'  
  
Another gasp cut her off mid-flow, and Dugan found he could move again, fired up for the task Elizabeth had set them. He shook Savy's hand from his arm, shaking her into action with the movement.   
  
'The stream's this way,' she said dazedly, obviously unused to taking orders doled out so absently. 'Come on.'  
  
He stumbled along behind her, glancing back up to the mass of men once more, and wondering if there would be a Jack to find after this fight was over.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The crews of the Black Pearl and the Red Dragon stood, gathered behind their captains, silent as they looked down on the men who had tried to take what did not belong to them. They understood why this fight had to take place, but many couldn't help but wonder why Marin hadn't put up more of a fight to take her place alongside them. A suspicion had run through them when Solomon had tried to get himself left in charge of the women, and when he couldn't, he had been seen talking urgently with Elizabeth Turner. That suspicion had soon left them, however, when the lady in question had been seen to laugh in his face and usher him away, leaving them relieved that what could have been happening obviously wasn't.  
  
The pirates from the island, the men and women who had answered Marin's summons, had taken their place at the forefront of the line. This was to be their home, and they had every right to defend it as their own. Strangely, they had accepted Jack as leader for however long he was to stay, when he commanded a crew that would have been their rivals only a year or so before.   
  
The overseer's men, the foremen and workers that he had employed to 'keep the slaves in line' were lined up before them, a motley collection of lumbering men who must have known they didn't stand a chance against these battle-hardened individuals. They had found their hands full with the island pirates, but now they were reinforced and gathered under the command of one man, the piratical forces were a sight to be reckoned with. And they had noticed the silence of the slaves as they had left the compounds to join this fight, a silence any man will gift to another who is surely going to his death. Needless to say, it had not been an encouraging walk up to the headland.  
  
Jack observed the opposing force warily, glancing at Will, who stood restlessly by his side.   
  
'I don't like leaving them alone any more than you do, mate,' he said softly. 'But there's no way I'm letting Marin fight in her condition -'  
  
'And Elizabeth's stuck to her like glue,' Will agreed. 'I know, Jack. I just can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.'  
  
'You and me both, mate,' Jack sighed. 'Look at them. They're not here to fight, they're here to be beaten. You can see it in their eyes.'  
  
Will nodded, glancing up at the sun.  
  
'It's past noon, and no sign of Redman,' he commented. 'Is his plan to try and bore us to death?'   
  
Jack chuckled, a sound that rippled through the men who had heard the dry comment behind them. He shook his head, his pleasant expression growing tense.  
  
'Where is that bastard?'  
  
*~*~*  
  
Dugan trudged along behind Savy, trying to block the cries of pain from his ears as they approached the little hut once more. He'd taken to not even glancing inside the door, not caring to look upon his closest friend in what appeared to be complete and utter agony. He didn't remember Elizabeth making this much noise when she gave birth, but then, he had been running about all over the place that night, hardly in a position to take notes for a later comparison.  
  
Savy glanced at him briefly, relieving him of the basin he carried, and took it inside. She paused only for a split second to take in the sight before her, hurrying to place the basin of water beside the straining woman, and the shawl within reach of Elizabeth. Marin was sat, propped against the wall, her knees drawn up and her face red with exertion. Sweat slid in rivulets down her face, soaking the hair at her temples. Her fists were clenched; in fact, her whole body seemed clenched as yet another contraction ripped through her. A low moan broke from her, growing into a yell that held on for as long as she had breath, Elizabeth's words of encouragement almost lost beneath the sound.   
  
Unable to stay more than a few moments, Savy slipped back out again, unduly disturbed by what Marin was going through. She was a whore, she knew her business well enough, but she'd never really given thought as to the consequences if she grew lax in her routines. Seeing another woman in such pain was enough for her to reaffirm her assertion that she would never willingly be impregnated.  
  
Dugan barely glanced at her as she moved to stand at his side, both of them staring up at the immobile forces on the hillside. Neither faction seemed inclined to begin proceedings, though Dugan couldn't tell if this were a good or a bad thing. Behind them, an eternal struggle was going on, while above, it seemed no man was inclined to throw the first punch. Yet another indication of how much more resilient women are, he thought, stopping himself just before he voiced such an opinion. The last thing he needed was Savy crowing about his having finally discovered the truth.  
  
It seemed that they stood there for hours, listening to the cries, watching the men watching each other, until another voice joined the two within. A disgruntled wailing, high-pitched and ear-splitting, filled the air. Dugan and Savy stared at one another, identical grins of triumph spreading across their faces as it sank in that Marin was a mother. It was a shame that the men on the hill couldn't hear the cries of the newborn, he reflected. Such a sound would definitely call the whole thing off.  
  
Suddenly a shot rang through the air, and Dugan froze, his blood running cold as he turned to gaze up at the headland once more. No man fell, wounded or dying, in response to a shot that he couldn't have heard from such a distance. In horror, he turned back to the hut, hearing quiet sobs from within. One hand restraining Savy from rushing where she had no idea of the situation, he watched, startled by his own callousness in not running to his friend's aid.  
  
The door to the hut swung open, and Thomas Redman strode out, a squirming bundle cradled in his arms. Dugan caught a glimpse of the two women, lying close together on the dirt floor, before the door swung shut once more. His grip on Savy's arm grew tighter, his other hand moving to caress the hilt of his sabre as Redman stalked past, a triumphant grin on his cruel features. Dugan pulled Savy down to his level, talking swiftly, but quietly.  
  
'Run up tae the headland and tell the captains everything tha's happened,' he told her, giving her a little push when she remained, frozen in one place. 'Go on wi' ye!'  
  
She stumbled a little way, turning back to stare at him with fearful eyes.  
  
'What are you going to do?' she asked, alarmed by the vicious anger in the younger boy's eyes.  
  
Dugan's hand flexed on his sabre hilt.  
  
'Get that babbie back,' he said grimly, moving to follow where Redman had gone.  
  
He heard Savy's footsteps as she ran for the headland fade away behind him, his eyes on the distant figure of Redman as he walked through the half-completed village to the meadow beyond. The image of Marin and Elizabeth lying together, so still and silent, had frightened him. Marin was his dearest friend, she had taught him how to fight, and, more importantly, how to cheat and win. To lose her would be a fate he could not imagine, but if he was to lose her, then by God, he would not lose her child. Even if it were for no other reason that the fact that Elias Fitzpatrick would rise from his grave to haunt the Scot should he fail in this.  
  
He slipped into the meadow behind Redman, faster than the stocky man without a wriggling burden. When he was a few feet short of the older man, Redman spun suddenly, his pistol cocked and aimed at Dugan's heart. He grinned at the boy's startled look.  
  
'Did you think I couldn't hear you following me, boy?' he demanded. 'That I'm such a fool as to think that I wouldn't be at least followed? What do you intend to do, I wonder?'  
  
Dugan forced himself to remain rational. He would not win this fight if he didn't keep his temper. His eyes flicked about the meadow around them, learning the scenery as Marin had always taught him. Redman mistook his silence for apprehension, nerves, and laughed, sparking Dugan's anger once more.  
  
'You don't know, do you?' he taunted the boy. 'You saw me leave and thought you could take the child from me, eh? And now you're here, you're at a loss.'  
  
His grin widened terribly.  
  
'I shall enjoy killing you, boy.'  
  
Dugan's sabre whistled from its sheath to knock the pistol harmlessly from Redman's hand. In the face of the older man's shock, he kicked it away, his sabre balanced perfectly as he regarded his adversary. Redman swallowed his sudden shock and surprise, still arrogantly certain that he could win this.  
  
'So, you think you can take me on, do you?' he sneered. 'Would you risk the life of your captain's child?'  
  
He raised the baby so that the tiny girl was between him and the point of Dugan's sword. Dugan spat at him.  
  
'Fer one thing, ye know nothing of me,' he said tightly. 'Jack Sparrow's not my captain. And ye're no man if ye can use a child tae save yer own neck.'  
  
Redman laughed in his face, ignoring the child as she began to scream once more in protest at the way she was being handled.   
  
'So the child with no ties to the Sparrows is going to take me on to gain favour with them then?' he assumed. 'It will be a shame when they find you dead in this field, their little girl beside you.'  
  
He took one hand from the baby to reach for his dagger, but Dugan was ready for him. He whipped out his smallest blade, throwing it hard and accurately into Redman's wrist. The older man howled with pain, unable to stop Dugan from snaring the child from him and holding her close against his chest. He sheathed his sabre carefully, drawing the first of his two pistols.  
  
'Ye'll no' harm this one, nor any other,' he growled, and fired.  
  
The bullet thudded smoothly into Redman's left thigh, knocking the man to the ground as his bone shattered, blood already flowing freely from the wound. Whimpering in pain and outrage, Redman could only watch as Dugan drew forth his other pistol and discharged the barrel into his other thigh. He fell back, close to fainting, but not quite, still conscious of the dull throbbing that was his life's blood seeping into the soil of the island he had refused to give up. Dugan bent, tearing his blade from the man's wrist with no cause for gentleness, and moved to leave the meadow, his feet taking him back to the half-made village.  
  
The baby squirmed a little in his grip, settling back down again to sleep, cradled against him in complete security. Dugan couldn't help but smile down at her, a smile that faded as he approached the little hut where he had left the women. The crews of both ships were gathered around outside, each watching him with a new respect in their eyes as he made his way through their ranks to the door. A low keening sound greeted him as he entered, stopping in shock as he looked around him. Marin lay cradled in Jack's arms, exhausted but alive, both of them staring with wide eyes and pale faces at their companion.   
  
Will was kneeling with Elizabeth held close against him, rocking backwards and forwards with an expression too terrible to describe on his handsome face. Dugan realised with a jolt that the keening sound that had wrapped about this scene came from the captain of the Red Dragon as he held his wife in his arms. Blood soaked her dress, and as Will glanced up, Dugan saw that her eyes were wide and unseeing. Elizabeth was dead.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ildera: *cowering* I suppose you all hate me now, don't you? *stands defiantly for a split second before ducking again* I'm unrepentant! I'd do it again, I tell you! Over and over again! Mwahahahahahah-  
  
Marin: *slaps 'dera, hard* Shut up and calm down, for heaven's sake.  
  
Ildera: *holding cheek, sheepishly* Sorry, Marin.  
  
Marin: Now get up and apologise to all the readers for what you've done.  
  
Ildera: *grumbling* Bloody woman - give her a baby and suddenly she's full of confidence and courage . . . *stands up to face judgement* I'm very sorry for killing her, guys, but the story got a bit stuck. And I figured she was the only really main character I could kill off without getting myself lynched.  
  
James: Hardly a satisfactory apology, but it will do, Miss Ildera. Or should I now call you Mrs Ildera?  
  
Ildera: No, just 'dera will do, commodore. And before I forget, thank you to Dell-Doo for wishing me luck - it was a great day! No, I'm not going to break Joe's leg again, he's not healed the other one yet! And I see you're not happy with the cliffie . . . well, tough.  
  
Marin: *reading through reviews* Hello, Sparrow's Pearl . . . glad to see you've been enjoying the yarn. I'm told Jack's not going to be washed overboard again - but then, this from the woman who assured me she wasn't going to kill anyone else off.  
  
James: Marin, behave yourself.  
  
Marin: *sigh* Yes, James. Awww, I'm glad you think I'm worth Jack giving up the sea, though hopefully it won't come to that.  
  
James: I still think as long as he lives by the sea and is kept busy, he'll be fine.   
  
Marin: Hmmm, maybe. Hehehe . . . what kind of pirate would I be if I could resist the chance to make a profit, eh? Even if I did bet on my cousin's nerves.  
  
James: And I still say you owe me half a pound for winning you the pound in the first place.  
  
Marin: You don't have any say in the bet, you ARE the bet. Now shush, I'm talking to Sparrow's Pearl. *waits for James to close his mouth before continuing* I don't think Mrs Groves requires a plank to be convinced of her folly, though. I should think guilt will be doing that just fine right now. *looks pointedly at 'dera*  
  
Ildera: Look, I said I'm sorry, alright?  
  
James: Ignore her, Miss - 'dera, she's just trying to make you squirm.  
  
Ildera: Well, it's working.  
  
James: Be of good cheer, Storm13 insists that it's still great. And Lady Quinn wants you to update. *bows to Lady Quinn* Welcome, my lady.  
  
Marin + Ildera: *roll eyes heavenwards*  
  
Marin: Lady Quinn, she has a couple more chapters she could post, but she's waiting to see just how universally hated she'll be after this.   
  
Ildera: Who's she, the cat's mother?  
  
James: *begins to laugh* Most droll, Miss - 'dera . . .  
  
Marin: No, she's you.  
  
James: *freezes, glances from 'dera to Marin*  
  
Ildera: You're not going to let this go, are you?  
  
Marin: Not unless you bring her back.  
  
Ildera: How about I send you to join her? Would that do?  
  
James: *intervening* Now ladies, there is no need for this. Marin, a word, if I may. *grips Marin's arm and leads her away forcefully*  
  
Ildera: *sigh* I really need to learn to control my temper. Oh well. *back to reviews* Oooh! I got sent fireworks! Pretty lights! *ahem* Hello and welcome Dryandra, and no, it isn't snowing where I am, the reason being, I live in the south of England where snow durst not venture.  
  
Marin: *hissing at James* But she killed her . . .  
  
Ildera: *continuing unawares* And I didn't actually say 'that's your lot for the next month or so' just the next while, and I did update before February, so there. I know I'm evil, haven't I just proved it?  
  
James: *muttering at Marin* . . . no cause for you to be so insulting . . .  
  
Ildera: Savy! Hello! What, no plank this time? *laugh* I'm glad you like it, how about your role as is? And I'm sure Matthew will be honoured to know he has stolen your heart . . . mind you, I think any female with a pulse would go goo-goo over that particular little boy.   
  
Marin: *hissing* . . . can't make me . . .  
  
James: *muttering* . . . want to test my patience . . .  
  
Marin: *pause* Oh, alright. 'Dera?  
  
Ildera: *turns around* Yes?  
  
Marin: Look, I just want to say -  
  
Ildera: Don't bother, I'm the one in the wrong. You have every right to be angry with me. I understand completely. I'm sorry I snapped.  
  
Marin: Oh. Well, I'm sorry as well. I had no right to try and make your life hell, or to insult you. Can we go back to being friends?  
  
James: *goggling at girls*  
  
Ildera: Yeah, I'd like that. *absently* James, shut your mouth, you look like a fish.  
  
James: *jaw snaps shut*  
  
Marin: On with the reviews! Hmmm. Oh, Lucy! Hi! Are you sure she's updating quickly? Everyone else seems to think she's taking ages.  
  
Ildera: Even I do . . . but thanks for the compliments anyway. Did I update fast enough for an Oreo? Or have I shot myself in the foot with the content of said update?  
  
James: *muttering to self* Just ignore it, it must be a woman thing. *reading next reviews* MarsMoonStar, I'm sure 'dera finds it gratifying that you are enjoying her piece.  
  
Ildera: Master of the understatement, is he not? emma346, it's okay to be lazy, everyone does it. Hey, I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I have updated, see? You just read it!  
  
Marin: *laughing at 'dera's logic* So that's why you put the A/N at the end . . . so you can defend yourself.  
  
Ildera: Of course.  
  
James: Miss Ariandir, it is we who have a bone to pick with YOU this time, I believe. 'Dera has been waiting almost a week for your answer to the email that she sent in response to your prodding on your LJ that was in response to her prodding on the last chapters. *pause* That does make sense, doesn't it?  
  
Marin: Perfect sense. So, Arian, the ball is most definitely in your court.  
  
Ildera: But quite apart from that, thank you for my lovely reviews! I have to say, I went back and watched PotC again after you mentioned about Gillette's sneer, and you're completely right! What a strange affliction to have! Oh, by the way . . . raw talent, my arse.  
  
James: I beg your pardon?  
  
Marin: She's not speaking to you.  
  
Ildera: Hard work and perseverence, luv, not raw talent. *tut, tut* And here was I thinking you knew me so well. Oh, and yes, Beth is prem as well. I seem to have a thing for prem births, can't think why. *wink*  
  
James: ItZ . . . mE!, I agree six chapters in one week is good. And in my humble opinion, if Ana Maria manages to hang onto the Dryad for another year, there'll be a ring around the moon every night.  
  
Ildera: He's not prejudiced, or anything. *snigger*  
  
Marin: Bless him, after all this time, he's still uncomfortable with the thought of female pirates.   
  
James: *blushing slightly* It's just not natural, that's all.  
  
Marin: *letting that comment pass* lilitaliandragon, erm . . . since you told us to ignore your review, I'll just leave it at that, shall I?  
  
Ildera: Oooh, I have another new reviewer! Ahoy, Lady Skywalker! I did update! See? *points upwards*  
  
Marin: And last but not least, Angel of the Night Watchers, thank you for reviewing, it means a lot to her.   
  
Ildera: Again, with the her.  
  
Marin: Sorry, 'dera.  
  
James: Please don't start that again.  
  
Marin + Ildera: *sweetly* Start what?  
  
James: *groan* Goodbye, everyone. 


	17. Elizabeth

Jack smiled unconsciously down at his sleeping wife, her arms about his - their daughter. But the smile, and the joy that caused it, were tainted by grief, grief at the loss of one of his oldest friends, and the suffering her husband now faced without her. He glanced at Will, sitting by the bed, his blank expression almost frightening to a man who had never seen him not in the grip of some powerful emotion. This blankness was more alarming than Jack would care to admit. He gripped his friend's shoulder, forcing the younger man to look up at him.  
  
'Are you sure you want to stay here, Will?' he asked. 'It's no trouble to fetch another to watch them.'  
  
A flicker of determination lit up Will's eyes for a moment as he looked up at his friend.  
  
'No, Jack, I'll stay,' he said firmly. 'I want to stay, don't you see?'  
  
Jack did see, nodding in defeat as he loosed his hold on the other captain and moved to leave the room. Will was coping far better than they would have suspected. He had gone to the meadow to spit on Redman's body, and helped to make the coffin they would carry Elizabeth home in, less than an hour after they had discovered her body. Now he was insisting on guarding Marin and the child, refusing to leave them unless Jack was the one who took his place. He did not want his wife to have died in vain. The only thing they had not been able to convince him to do was go aboard the Dragon to see his son. That was the only thing he could not face, not yet.  
  
Jack shut the door quietly, moving to join the men who had stayed with them beside the fire they had built to ward off the coolness of the night. Gibbs rose, forcing his captain to sit as a meal was brought to him. The crew knew that it was times such as these that could break their captain. In the space of one day, he had almost lost both his wife and daughter, and seen one of his best friends killed in defence of them. If he dwelt too long on that, he would never be the same man again.  
  
'When will we return to Port Royale, sir?' Gibbs asked him, watching closely as Jack ate the stew they had given him.  
  
'Not for another few days yet,' Jack told them. 'Marin's not strong enough, and I'm not risking her again.'  
  
'Nor should you, cap'n,' Solomon piped up. 'We'll wait. Gives us a chance to make revenge for what that bastard's put her through again.'  
  
Both crews made sounds of agreement, for they had all insisted on seeing Jack's wife before leaving them in peace, and they had all seen the grief in her eyes, the pain that Elias' death had awakened within her, and Elizabeth's murder had rekindled. But on top of all that, they had also seen the haunting loss that coloured Will's expression, the terrible darkness that had descended upon him following the afternoon, and they knew they would give anything to take it all away, to make things right again.  
  
'There'll be no revenge here,' Jack said firmly, over their grumbles. 'Young Dugan saw to that, and well done it was, too.'  
  
He nodded to the boy kneeling nearby.  
  
'I owe you a great deal, mate.'  
  
Dugan shrugged.  
  
'Marin's my friend,' he said simply. 'I'd die a'fore I'd see her hurt agin.'  
  
Beside him, Hopkins rested a hand on his shoulder, hearing the anger simmering beneath the surface in the boy's voice. Dugan would never forgive himself for letting Redman get so far in his plan, for not being as close as he thought he should have been, and already the guilt had hardened him. Nothing could persuade him of his innocence, and nothing would remove the stain he had awarded himself for his lack of vigilance.  
  
'Well, with any luck, it won't come to that, mate,' Jack told him, offering a smile to the guilt-stricken lad.   
  
'How's Will?' someone asked softly, so hidden in shadow it was impossible to say who had spoken.  
  
Jack's face froze for a moment, before he sighed deeply.  
  
'His wife's just been murdered, how do you think he is?' he said acerbically, holding up his hands to forestall any outraged defence of the question. 'I know, you're all worried about him. I am, too, whether you believe me or not. He needs watching, lads, keeping from doing anything stupid. And young Matthew needs his father, so we've got to help Will snap out of this.'  
  
They sat in silence for long moments, each man with something to say, and yet no courage with which to say it. But, sitting around the captain and knowing he himself must be bursting to speak of it, the someone who found himself possessed of the courage was young Harry. He leant forward eagerly, ignoring Dugan's hiss for him to keep quiet, and spoke.  
  
'What's it like to be a father then, cap'n?' he asked, receiving a thump about his shoulders for his trouble.  
  
It was worth it, though, for the look that crossed Jack's face. It was filled with joy and excitement and love, all for the woman who had borne him a child, and the child herself.  
  
'It's indescribable, mate,' he said softly. 'She's so small and perfect . . . I don't know how I could deserve such a beautiful child. But I suppose I've got a matching set now - beautiful wife, beautiful daughter, eh?'  
  
There was scattered laughter among them, a release of anxiety for many who had worried over Marin and her child since they had been reunited earlier. Gibbs grinned to see his captain so awe-struck, lifting his bottle high.  
  
'A toast,' he offered. 'To the captain's daughter - what's her name?'  
  
Jack's face softened, his eyes darkening for just a moment as he glanced back at the little hut.  
  
'Elizabeth,' he said softly.  
  
The silence that fell on them was reflective, sorrowful, since there could be no doubt of who the child had been named for, and no one could think of a more fitting tribute to the woman who had brought them all together, through her own misfortune and bravery. There was a rustle of cloth, and all heads turned to Michael, the lad who had so narrowly missed being hung that morning. He had been welcomed back with open arms by his crew, and there could be no doubt of his attachment to the young girl who had come to fetch them. Even now, young Savy stood close to him, rising to stand beside him as he raised his cup.  
  
'To Elizabeth,' Michael said quietly, his voice carrying clearly across the gathering. 'To the woman she was, and the woman she'll become.'  
  
Slowly, each man rose from his seat, touched in his own way by this quiet reminder of what had been lost and gained today. They had all known the woman Elizabeth Turner was, and all looked forward to the future, to the woman Elizabeth Sparrow would become. Jack was among the last to rise, his thoughts caught up in his friend's grief and his own joy, and was struck by how much his life was not his own anymore. Anything that affected him affected his crew, and through him, Will and his crew. The Pearl and the Dragon were inexorably linked by bonds of blood, friendship, and love, bonds that could not be broken.  
  
Raising his cup, he looked around at them, his crew, Will's crew, the men who had bound themselves to him and his friend, and had stayed with them through the trials and strife that had come their way over the past year, culminating perhaps in this bittersweet day. Life and death had come together, and he hoped to God that they would not clash again in his lifetime. Nothing could be more terrible than feeling joy when another is suffering in grief.  
  
He sighed softly, placing his hand on Dugan's shoulder and seeing the boy echo his sigh.  
  
'To Elizabeth,' he said, and the words were spoken by all present, spoken, felt, and remembered.   
  
Watching them from the little hut, Will let the tears fall down his cheeks, sobbing in silence for the woman who had made his life so complete for so short a time. He closed the shutters quietly, turning away from the scene in which his dear wife was being remembered so fondly by those who could not have known her as he did, and yet remembered her with as much feeling. His eyes fell on Marin and her daughter where they slept, and a smile crept onto his face. He felt no resentment, nor anger that it was not Marin who had died, as some had thought he might, but just a fierce determination that Jack would not suffer the same loss he had. No one deserved to feel the biting cold of loss as he had.  
  
And as long as he lived, Elizabeth Sparrow would live in safety, to ensure that her namesake was not forgotten.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ildera: Why do I get the impression that most of you aren't happy with me? It took me a long time to work up the courage to post Chapter 16, you know. Do you think I enjoyed killing her off? The story demanded it, and most of you should know how plotlines get if you ignore them.   
  
Jack: *waving bottle around* Love, can we get on with it?  
  
Ildera: Aw, bless. He wants to get back to his daughter. *picks up reviews* Alright, captain, lets have a crack at this lot.  
  
Jack: PhilosopherCat, who isn't jaded after what 'dera did to us in Doubloon? And I agree, love, Dugan did do us proud.  
  
Ildera: *catches Oreo* Thank you, Lucy. I'll just wait patiently hear until the speechlessness has worn off, shall I?  
  
Jack: I seem to recall a review or two from you, Elentari II. *raises bottle in a toast* Here's to you catching up with us soon!  
  
Ildera: You know, Angel of the Night Watchers, I'm not sure which of those it was myself. But hey, I'm stuck with it now. And I can promise heartache, but there are no more deaths in the pipeline as far as I can see.  
  
Jack: *turns around to catch a snowball full in the face* Phhhpt!  
  
Ildera: *laughing* I see you got the snowing thunderstorm too, Ariandir.  
  
Jack: *wiping face* Bloody hell, love, that's cold!  
  
Ildera: Oh, don't be such a baby, it's just snow. *back to review* Oh, Arian, I'm sorry I can't bring her back. You'll see what I mean later when I say now that she doesn't fit anymore. Okay?  
  
Jack: Unexpected but good, Storm13 says . . . good characterisation . . . emotional impact . . .  
  
Ildera: Jack, you're supposed to answer to the review, not summarise it.  
  
Jack: *glances up at her* Ah. Well, I'm sure 'dera will be pleased to hear that not everyone hates her for what she's done . . .  
  
Ildera: And your sanity's safe with me!  
  
Jack: Kai-Sparrow . . . you'd be new, would you? I agree, 'dera does have an evil streak, but it doesn't get aired very often. And you don't talk too much, trust me. We like rambling reviews. *grin*  
  
Ildera: *rushes towards emma436, ready to slap her on the back* Are you alright there? Oh, just shock then. Thank you for the lovely compliment, it made me feel all warm inside. And was this soon enough for you? *hug*  
  
Jack: *draws cutlass and stands protectively in front of 'dera* Sparrow's Pearl, you put that down right now. 'Dera's been more than kind to you lot, and this is how you repay her, with threats and intimidation? It wasn't easy for her to do it, you know.  
  
Ildera: Jack, it's alright. SP's plank and I go way back.  
  
Jack: Sure, love?  
  
Ildera: Positive. *hands him review* Answer this one for me, would you?  
  
Jack: *bows* With pleasure, love. Dell-Doo, my dear, how are you? I see the medication still isn't having any effect . . . I don't believe a pirate with the name Marvin Harvey would last long enough to get to the Caribbean, let alone survive one of 'dera's plotbunnies long enough to let himself be killed.  
  
Ildera: Dryandra - well, yes. And to the other question, yes, I did. I was wondering how many people would notice, and it was only you! *hands over virtual Black Pearl* Be careful with it, it's one of only four that I've given out.  
  
Jack: *sigh* I've found another plank, 'dera.  
  
Ildera: *glances up* Oh, hello, Savy.  
  
Jack: Nothing to worry about then. She died with honour, love, that's all. And I will be sure to pass your congratulations on to my wife, thank you.  
  
Ildera: *cowers behind table while Lady Quinn rants* Elizabeth was one of my favourites too! And Will is more than capable of looking after his own son, thank God.   
  
Jack: Druidan54, why would you want to manage your anger? I personally channel it into getting drunk and that seems to work just fine, don't you think?  
  
Ildera: Oh, so our mysterious 'The Lady' has revealed herself. Welcome on board once more, Lady Skywalker. You're right, the chapter was a bit choppy, but it was bloody difficult to write. And you're not angry with me! *falls down and kisses Lady Skywalker's feet*  
  
Jack: *ahem* Moving swiftly onwards . . . last but not least, MarsMoonStar. Many thanks from all. *glances at where 'dera's still hanging onto LS's boots* I think I should take her away before she does herself damage. Drink up, me hearties! 


	18. Life From Death

Now with correction that hopefully no one but Dryandra noticed in the first place!  
  
*~*~*  
  
The Red Dragon drew slowly into Port Royale's harbour, each man aboard achingly aware of the awful cargo they bore and the terrible news their captain had to give to the governor. Hopkins glanced up at his young captain, a sad smile crossing his weathered face as he watched Will draw Matthew up into his arms, pointing to the shore where his grandfather and cousin waited patiently for the ship to dock. The little boy didn't understand what had happened, why his mother was gone, and his father so sad. But just his presence had done wonders for Will's spirit, lifting him from the despair that had threatened to overwhelm him to stand watch over his son as he grew. For Elizabeth.  
  
No order needed to be given as they dropped anchor, men moving slowly below to collect their tragic cargo and load it into the longboat. Will and Matthew slipped into the second boat, having no room to sit with Elizabeth as she was rowed across the harbour. Governor Swann moved forward to greet his son-in-law, not seeing the leaded coffin as it was manhandled onto the dock. James, however, froze, shocked beyond words as he took in what he saw. Beside him, Laura frowned, glancing up at her husband in confusion. He bent, murmuring something to her, and she gasped, one hand moving to her mouth as tears began to sparkle in her eyes.  
  
Swann smiled down at his grandson, lifting him into his arms with a chuckle as the little boy greeted him enthusiastically. Lady Rosemary embraced Will, suppressing her questions as she took in the terrible loss in his eyes. As he moved to speak to his father-in-law, Laura broke between them, tears trickling down her cheeks, and held him close.  
  
'Thank you for bringing her home, Will,' she whispered, feeling his hands tighten spasmodically at her back, and the shuddering gasp he tried so hard to hide.   
  
As they parted, Will smiling gratefully down at his wife's cousin, the governor glanced up from his grandson, looking about him for the third of their party.  
  
'Where's Elizabeth?' he asked.   
  
Will swallowed, forcing himself not to look at the coffin where it lay nearby, guarded by six of his men.   
  
'Sir, I . . .' he began, choked by his own grief as the words refused to come, dying in his throat as he fought to remain composed.   
  
James wrapped an arm about his wife, wishing he could break the news for the younger man. No one should have to go through what Will was now suffering. Laura gripped his waist tightly, her own sobs almost inaudible as she watched her cousin's husband fight to tell them of her death.   
  
'Will, whatever is the matter?' the governor asked, suddenly concerned. 'It's a simple enough question, man, where is my daughter?'  
  
Lady Rosemary reached out, her face solemn, to place a hand on her brother-in-law's arm.  
  
'Weatherby,' she said softly, her tone a warning to him that he did not understand.  
  
'Well, it is, Rosemary,' he defended himself, turning back to Will as Matthew shifted in his arms, affected by his father's sudden mood change. 'Will?'  
  
Unable to face the man who had entrusted him with his daughter's safety, Will turned abruptly away, walking a few steps towards the town blindly. James moved to intercept him, a firm hand placed on his friend's shoulder to prevent him doing anything he might regret. Confused and alarmed, Swann stared at them, glancing back at the women, who had moved to stand together, unable to look at the coffin laid out beside them. In his arms, Matthew shifted again, laying his golden head down on his grandfather's shoulder.  
  
'Mama's gone,' he said quietly, emotionless in his non-understanding of what had happened.  
  
Swann drew his head back to look down at the little boy, his frown deepening.  
  
'Gone?' he repeated, comprehension beginning to dawn as he looked from the child to the women, to Will, who still could not look at him. 'She can't be . . .'  
  
His gaze was drawn to the coffin, finally, to the miserable expressions of the men standing guard over their captain's wife, and a chilling feeling gripped him. His eyes closed slowly, trying to block out the sight of his daughter's last carriage. He barely felt Rosemary's hand against his back, offering comfort to him as he held Matthew close, rocking the bewildered child back and forth in mute grief.   
  
James looked down into Will's stricken face, his hand flexing on the pirate's shoulder in the only form of support he felt he could give. Will's head drooped, his grimace tightening as the tears that had only fallen in the hours after Elizabeth's death began to flow once more, and he willingly turned into the comfort of James' embrace, unashamed to cling to the older man in the throes of his pain. Slowly, the tide of grieving ebbed for a while, allowing the sorrowful group to make their way back to Governor's House, to watch as Elizabeth was laid in a place of rest before she could be committed to the earth.  
  
Will sat on the sofa, Matthew on his lap, as the governor poured himself a large measure of brandy. Lady Rosemary had attempted to retire to her room, unwilling to hear how her beloved niece had died, or indeed, any more about Elizabeth until she had composed herself, but found the silence of her own company too awful to bear, returning to sit with them within minutes of leaving. Laura sat beside Will, one hand on his as she leant forward.  
  
'How . . . how did it happen?' she asked hesitantly, almost afraid to know the truth.   
  
She watched as Will froze for a moment, forcing himself to tell them what they had every right to know.   
  
'She was shot,' he said bluntly, knowing no way to soften the blow, 'by the former overseer of Marin's island. He was trying to take the island by force.'  
  
Lady Rosemary gasped, shocked by the violence of her niece's death. The governor, on the other hand, leant forward, his eyes bright and vicious.  
  
'Need I ask how his state of health is?' he demanded, trying to stop himself from attacking his son-in-law at such a painful time for the young man.  
  
Will swallowed, his face hardening.  
  
'Dead, sir,' he said firmly. 'Killed by Dugan for us all.'  
  
Governor Swann leant back, sagging slightly. The sudden weight of his daughter's death would take time to sink in, he knew, but somehow knowing her murderer was lying in a shallow grave himself seemed to soften the blow.   
  
'There were suggestions that we bury her on the island,' Will said softly. 'But I thought to bring her home to you, sir, since you have the right to decide how she be put to rest.'  
  
Swann nodded numbly, gripping his sister-in-law's hand tightly as this, too, sank in. Lady Rosemary took charge of the situation, exchanging a glance with James over her late sister's husband's head.   
  
'A quiet affair then, as soon as possible,' she said, her voice strangely level despite her grief. 'How soon will Jack and Marin be here?'  
  
A faint smile crossed Will's face, and he turned to look Lady Rosemary in the face.  
  
'I'm afraid Jack and Marin send their apologies for not being able to attend the funeral,' he told them, raising a hand to forestall James' concerned queries. 'They have . . . other things to attend to at the moment.'  
  
'I should think the funeral of her best friend would be more important to Marin than the well-being of an island that will keep for another few weeks without her,' Lady Rosemary began, cut off by Will's sudden grin, so out of place on a young face haunted by grief.  
  
'It would be, but it's not the island that's taking up her time, I'm afraid,' he said, trying not to appear flippant and failing miserably. 'It's the baby.'  
  
The look on James' face was priceless, he decided, sorry Jack had not been there to see it. Laura's eyes lit up in joy, her sorrow forgotten for a moment as she contemplated the new life born to her friends.   
  
'Marin's had her baby?' she asked, almost breathless. 'When?'  
  
At this, Will's smile vanished once again, and his grip tightened on her hand.  
  
'The morning of the day Elizabeth died,' he murmured. 'She died protecting Marin and her daughter from Redman.'  
  
The cloud returned to hang over the little party on hearing this, though the sorrow was now tempered with pride in Elizabeth that her final act had been one of compassion and love. James could not keep the tiny smile from his face. His little cousin, so worldly-wise in so many things, was a mother. She had a daughter, the first of many, he suspected, and found himself wondering what Jack thought of his new role, one he was certain the pirate had never played before.  
  
'What's her name?' he asked quietly, though he felt that he already knew the answer.   
  
Will smiled fleetingly as he glanced at the governor.   
  
'Elizabeth,' he said softly, seeing the fond joy on the grieving faces around him and feeling it keenly himself.  
  
'Life from death,' Lady Rosemary murmured, inwardly pleased that her niece's name would continue on with the life of the child who was no doubt being doted on as they spoke.   
  
'She's ugly,' Matthew offered, his small face screwed up as he remembered the first time he saw little Beth.  
  
For some reason, this struck the group gathered there as extraordinarily funny, even the governor laughing softly at his grandson's evaluation of the new baby. And in the mirth, hearts that had been torn apart by the grief of loss began the slow healing that would continue as the promise of new life blossomed and bloomed. 


	19. Takes One To Know One

Right then . . . I apologise with deepest sympathy to anyone reading this who can speak Spanish. I know for a fact that my Spanish is not the best in the world (far from it), but I had to have a go. There's a translation for all the Spanish lines at the end of the chapter. And I'm extending a loan Ariandir gave me of her characters, Ioade and Kate, from The Sundered Map - fantastic fic, you have to read it. But it hasn't been updated for ages! Sorry, Arian, if you don't pull your finger out, you may find yourself with another BIG ANNOUNCEMENT. *snigger*  
  
*~*~*  
  
Jack stood on the beach of the little island, watching the approaching sail through his telescope. He should have guessed that Will would be returning to them, though part of him had thought that the younger pirate would have chosen to remain in Port Royale to be near the resting place of his beloved wife. The shock of Elizabeth's death was still near, but somehow almost overshadowed by the inherent joy Jack felt whenever he saw his wife and daughter. He did not feel worthy of such joy.  
  
Beside him, Gibbs was staring across the water at another couple of approaching sails, a small grin on his face as he recognised the ships that were making their ponderous way towards them. He nudged his captain.  
  
'Looks like Ana's done what ye asked of her,' he commented, laughing at Jack's expression.  
  
'Mate, Ana Maria wouldn't do anything for me, even if I asked her nicely,' he said, exasperated. 'It's only because I'm married to Marin that she even bothers to give me the time of day, you know that.'  
  
He lifted the telescope to look out at the other ships, and barely stifled a groan.   
  
'Who invited them?' he wondered aloud.   
  
Another voice joined the conversation from behind them.  
  
'If you're talking about Ioade and her crew, then I did,' Marin told him firmly. 'They're bringing me something.'  
  
He turned, concern spreading through him as he looked her over, not bothering to suppress the pride that rose within him on seeing Beth cradled in her arms.   
  
'You shouldn't be out of bed, love,' he started, cut off by her weary sigh.  
  
'And why not?' she demanded, shifting her daughter into a more comfortable position. 'I've been in that hut for the last seven days, Jack, I'm going stir-crazy in there! There is nothing wrong with me that normal food and activity won't cure.'  
  
Jack glanced desperately at Gibbs, who pointedly ignored him, staring off at the ocean with single-minded interest. Seeing he would get no support from his first mate, he turned back to his wife, determined to at least try to make her look after herself.  
  
'Marin, sweetheart, you've had a hard few days -'  
  
Again, he didn't get the chance to finish.  
  
'You think I don't know that?' she asked acerbically, then softened, reaching out to touch his cheek tenderly. 'Jack, all I can do in that tiny hut is think about what's happened. If I go into any more depth, I'll go insane. Please, let me do this my way.'  
  
He opened his mouth to object, and stopped himself, seeing the steel in her eyes where recently there had only been muted pain. His Marin was back on her feet, it seemed. A grin spread across his face, and he bent to kiss her, mindful of the tiny girl in her arms.   
  
'Any way you want, love,' he murmured, smiling down into her eyes. 'Just don't expect me to approve.'  
  
Marin's smile was innocently mischievous.   
  
'Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, darling,' she said sweetly. 'After all, where's the fun in being approved of all the time? Here, hold your daughter a minute.'  
  
As she shifted Beth about, Jack willingly opened his arms to receive his little girl, cradling her close against his chest as she wriggled in her blanket. Marin watched, deeply touched by the fierce protectiveness of her husband's stance as he stared down lovingly at the child in his arms. Beth made a tiny sound in her throat, turning her head and opening her eyes to look up at her father with that curiously serious gaze all babies have mastered. Jack stared back, suddenly choked by the thought that this beautiful baby was his, of his blood. Hesitantly, he stroked a callused finger down her cheek, smiling as she turned, mouth open, towards the gentle touch.   
  
There was a shout from down the beach, and Marin took off with a yell, running towards where two familiar figures waited to be noticed. Kate carefully side-stepped the hurtling young woman, leaving her captain to catch their friend and embrace her laughingly. The last they had seen of one another was at Marin's wedding, and as she freely admitted, she had not been in the most receptive of moods on that day. The tawny-haired captain stepped back, marking the maturity in her friend's eyes and the glow in her cheeks.  
  
'It's good to see you, too, Mar,' she laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement at their reception as Kate nodded companionably to the little woman before them.  
  
'Thank you so much for coming,' Marin enthused. 'I can't begin to tell you how much I've missed you.'  
  
'And our services, no doubt,' Ioade said slyly. 'Several tonnes of the finest bricks, all secure in the hold, as ordered.'  
  
Marin's eyes widened.  
  
'You brought bricks?' she gasped, stunned. 'That's more than I could have hoped for. Thank you so much!'  
  
Ioade grinned, following Kate's gaze to where Jack approached, Beth held securely in his arms. Her jaw dropped.  
  
'Don't tell me that's yours?' she exclaimed, astonished by the sight of Captain Jack Sparrow looking every inch the proud father.  
  
'Well, if it isn't, one of us has been unfaithful,' Jack said cheerfully, 'and I think we would have found that out by now. Afternoon, captain, Kate.'  
  
Ioade's manner had become instantly somewhat more reserved on seeing Jack, as had Kate, though Marin suspected it was only because he expected them to. She had heard all about his misadventures with them in the past only recently, mostly because he had been at a loss for anything to entertain her with during the long hours when Beth couldn't sleep. She grinned proudly at her friends.  
  
'This is Beth,' she told them. 'Our daughter.'  
  
This time, it was not Ioade who moved to congratulate them, but Kate. She stepped forward, gathering Marin into her embrace warmly.  
  
'Congratulations,' she said softly. ' She's beautiful.'  
  
Jack's eyes widened as she approached him, but she just reached up to plant a perfunctory kiss on his cheek, one hand moving to rest atop the child's head in a simple blessing. Beth blinked up at her, confused by this new person, it seemed, and promptly settled down to sleep. Ioade, on the other hand, was holding Marin's shoulder.  
  
'We heard about the fight,' she was saying gently. 'I'm sorry about Elizabeth.'  
  
Marin's eyes clouded over momentarily, but she forced herself to smile.  
  
'She died trying to protect me and mine,' she murmured. 'The least I can do is honour her memory by not drowning my own daughter in my tears.'  
  
Another longboat thumped ashore and Ana Maria stepped out, pushing a plainly dressed man before her. She grinned at the pirates gathered there.  
  
'One master stonesmith, as requested,' she declared. 'He's Spanish, so he has no idea why I've brought him here.'  
  
Marin laughed.  
  
'Ana, you could at least have found someone whose language you can speak!' she giggled, as Jack turned to the petrified man with a welcoming smile.  
  
'Mis disculpas, señor, para el inconveniente. Tenemos una gran necesidad para un albañil bueno de piedra aquí, y estamos dispuesto a pagarlo guapamente para su trabajo.'  
  
The Spaniard seemed to relax somewhat, stepping away from Ana Maria as he replied.  
  
'Señor, si usted requiere mis servicios, usted necesita sólo preguntar. De hecho, yo busco el trabajo actualmente.'  
  
Jack grinned, extending a hand towards the man.  
  
'Mirar no más largo, señor. ¿Hay cualquiera usted desea que para nosotros contacte?'  
  
The Spaniard's hesitant smile was one of astonishment as he hurried to answer.  
  
'Querría que mi esposa y niños unanme aquí mientras trabajo, señor. Ellos están a bordo del barco que me tomó preso.'  
  
Jack nodded amicably, agreeing pleasantly with the man's request as the women spoke softly around them.   
  
'He says he'll work for you, love, as long as his family can stay with him,' he told Marin, a frown on his face as he tried to make sense of the man's speech. 'Eh? Oh, he says his name's Esteban Arroyo Covas.'  
  
Marin nodded to the senor, who bowed low to her, seemingly unaffected by the sight of so many women in breeches.   
  
'You're very welome, senor,' she told him, trying not to laugh as Jack grimaced his way through a translation of her words. Briefly, she wondered if she should mention that she, too, spoke Spanish, but decided he was having too much fun to appreciate it.  
  
'Where did you find him, Ana?' Kate asked, her tone faintly amused as she watched Jack fumble his way through the Spanish to reach some agreement with the stonemason.  
  
Ana shrugged.  
  
'Luck,' she said shortly. 'He was on the first Spanish ship I waylaid after getting Marin's message. Got a wife and three children, too.'  
  
'Did you bring them?' Marin asked, not wishing to be the cause of a family's separation.   
  
Ana gave her a flat look.  
  
'I'm no monster, Mar, of course I brought them,' she said, sounding slightly offended. 'They're still on board.'  
  
As Marin raised her hands to ward off an argument, another shout from the other end of the beach drew her attention away from the irate pirate captain to where another two longboats were thumping ashore from the ship that had been approaching alone. A small figure scrambled from the first of them, and ran headlong up the beach towards her, stumbling erratically from one foot to the other as he giggled.  
  
Marin ran to greet Matthew as he threw himself into her arms, accepting her welcoming embrace with a rather sticky kiss in return. As she lowered him back to the sand, another familiar face appeared in her line of vision, and she found herself moving to embrace her cousin and his wife with equal parts joy and sorrow. Laura held her tightly, shedding a few tears onto her friend's shoulder as she finally put her cousin's memory to rest in her heart.  
  
'It's so wonderful to see you, Marin,' she murmured. 'Mother sends her best wishes, and says that she would be here to see you if Uncle Weatherby wasn't such a hopeless case when it comes to arranging leave for himself.'  
  
Marin smiled sadly, understanding implicitly that the governor had no wish to see the child who was named for his daughter so recently committed to the earth. She glanced up at James, who was looking her over with a critical eye.   
  
She raised an eyebrow, twirling so he could see all of her.  
  
'Happy?' she asked. 'Trust me, there's no bruises, cuts, abrasions, anything that shouldn't be there.'  
  
James blinked, letting himself smile at her ridiculous expression as she moved to hug him close.  
  
'I'm all in one piece, commodore,' she assured him, stepping back to look him over. 'I take it you both survived the wedding night?'  
  
Laura's blush could have lit up the island, had it been night. Marin laughed, her eyes sparkling wickedly.   
  
'I see,' she said joyously. 'So James lived up to expectation then? Just as well, really, he was so worried he wouldn't be able to perform - '  
  
James' voice cut through hers sharply.  
  
'Marin, that's enough,' he reprimanded her. 'I swear you have all the discretion of a four year old. And I don't know what you're laughing about.'  
  
This last comment was aimed at Will, who was standing nearby, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress the guffaws that were trying to escape. He took a couple of deep breaths before answering.  
  
'Well, it does take one to know one, James,' he said, his voice far from level as a snort escaped his control. 'And you didn't see those two on their wedding night, did you?'  
  
'Will, that's enough,' Marin said, her tone an exact replica of her cousin's from moments before.   
  
Laura grasped her arm, her eyes suddenly aglow with wonder.  
  
'Is that her?' she asked softly, watching as Jack moved to join the group, three pirates and a stonemason in tow.   
  
Marin's smile was once again imbued with tender pride as she nodded.   
  
'Yes,' she said simply. 'That's our Beth.'  
  
Laura sighed softly as she looked down at the sleeping child, James close behind her as he, too, watched the newest member of his family wriggle drowsily in her father's arms. Jack glanced at Marin's half-grin, shifting Beth gently towards Laura.  
  
'Would you like to hold her, love?'  
  
She recoiled slightly, surprised by his question, and glanced apprehensively at Marin, as though the loving mother would refuse her friend the opportunity to cuddle her baby close.  
  
'May I?' she asked, her tone one of wondering excitement.   
  
Marin nodded happily, gesturing for Jack to place the baby in Laura's arms.  
  
'Of course you may,' she said softly, watching as James' wife drew Beth into her arms, holding her in a way that could only be described as 'careful'.  
  
James stared, touched to the core by how right it seemed to see his wife cradling a child, even though it was not their own. A surge of love gripped his heart as he watched her coo softly down at the tiny girl, obviously as enamoured of the child as he felt he would be, once he had the chance to get acquainted with her. A small hand slipped into his, and he glanced down to find Marin smiling up at him.  
  
'Enjoy being together while it lasts,' she warned him. 'It all changes when a child comes along.'  
  
He smiled at the weariness in her voice, leaning down to embrace her warmly again. He had not realised how much he'd missed his little cousin until he saw her again, though it had been only a little over a week since they'd parted last. It seemed that his heart was not prepared to give up his family for even a short while, not now that he had found it again. Jack coughed politely, pointedly fanning himself with his hat as everyone turned to face him.  
  
'How would everyone feel if we adjourned to a more comfortable spot, eh?' he suggested, bowing low and gesturing towards the trees that lined the beach beside the nowhere-near-built village. 'Señor, me sigue, por favor.'  
  
Amid the amicable chatter, the strange little group made their way up to the little copse, where they could sit and talk to their hearts' content, as the sun made it's ponderous way across the Caribbean sky.  
  
*~*~*  
  
And for those of you whose heads hurt after trying to read my pitiful attempt at a foreign language, here's the translation of what was said.  
  
Mis disculpas, señor, para el inconveniente. Tenemos una gran necesidad para un albañil bueno de piedra aquí, y estamos dispuesto a pagarlo guapamente para su trabajo.  
  
- My apologies, sir, for the inconvenience. We have a great need for a good stone mason here, and are willing to pay you handsomely for your labour.  
  
Señor, si usted requiere mis servicios, usted necesita sólo preguntar. De hecho, yo busco el trabajo actualmente.  
  
- Sir, if you require my services, you need only to ask. In fact, I am looking for work at the moment.  
  
Mirar no más largo, señor. ¿Hay cualquiera usted desea que para nosotros contacte?  
  
- Look no longer, sir. Is there anyone you wish for us to contact?  
  
Querría que mi esposa y niños unanme aquí mientras trabajo, señor. Ellos están a bordo del barco que me tomó preso.  
  
- I would like my wife and children to join me here while I work, sir. They are aboard the ship that took me prisoner.  
  
Señor, me sigue, por favor.  
  
- Sir, follow me, please. 


	20. Waiting For The Opportune Moment

I apologise for the horrendously long wait, and once more for my appalling grasp of Spanish! Read on!  
  
*~*~*  
  
The days passed into weeks, and weeks into months, and the little village on the island began to grow, taking shape as more men came to settle on the friendly shore. Señor Esteban took charge of the building almost immediately, teaching the men around him how to set bricks and make tiles, to build their homes the way they wanted them. His wife, Amata, and their three children settled quickly into the daily routine, finding friends among the motley crew of pirates, whores, and pirate's families that had chosen to make the island their home.   
  
It had come out, in dribs and drabs, that he had been travelling to the Americas, where he hoped to find work, and make enough money to settle himself and his family comfortably enough to live well. Ana Maria had attacked their ship and all but carried him off, his family with him, to the island, which had all they needed, shelter, food, friends, and work. Amata had quickly made her own skills known, those of midwife and wise woman, taking her place in the midst of the female community in the village.  
  
Their children had also found themselves happily occupied on the island. Devante, the eldest son, was of the same age as Dugan, and the two boys had taken to one another so well that Devante's English was accented heavily with both Spanish and Scotch. His sister, Esperanza, was a sweet child, unfortunately prone to illness, but she had quickly wormed her way into the hearts of most on the island, only a few exceptionally hard-hearted old men refusing to melt when she smiled at them. And little Galeno, four years older than Matthew, had taken Will's son under his wing, teaching him how to play, sometimes with his older sister in tow.   
  
The men worked long and hard each day, encouraged by the women as their homes grew strong and tall beneath the sun. Will's pet project, a blacksmith's forge, had slowly taken shape, and he had been awaiting an anvil and tools impatiently for a good couple of weeks before they finally arrived. Now all he needed was help to drag the heavy piece up to the smithy itself, and had recruited the only two men who had been stupid enough to stand with him while it was rowed ashore.   
  
'Christ, mate, this thing weighs a ton!' Jack exclaimed, sweat dripping down his face as he struggled to push the anvil up the sand towards the village.   
  
Will, too busy to reply, just grunted in agreement, heaving on the ropes they had secured around the anvil as his feet slipped on the sand.   
  
'Could you not have built the smithy closer to the shore?' James panted, smiling at the children as they danced around the struggling men.   
  
'Less talking,' Will ordered, himself breathless, 'more pulling.'  
  
Galeno and Matthew, their arms full of tools and leather, ran around them, shouting for the men to hurry up.  
  
'Un asno de tres patas lo podría mover más rápido que eso!' Galeno shouted gleefully, giggling in hysterics as Jack stopped pushing and growled menacingly at him.  
  
'I don't know what he said, but I'm guessing it wasn't flattering,' Will gasped, taking the opportunity for a rest.   
  
James breathed deeply for a couple of minutes, laughing slightly at Jack's expression as he chased the boys away with more growling.  
  
'Not as such, no,' he agreed. 'Definitely a slur on our honour, wouldn't you say, Jack?'  
  
Jack gave him a flat look.  
  
'The only slur on my honour, mate, is doing this in the first place,' he said archly, shrugging as Will shot an indignant look at him.   
  
'You didn't say no,' the younger man protested.   
  
Jack snorted.  
  
'Did I have a choice?' he shot back, wiping his face with his dripping bandanna.  
  
James straightened up, stretching his muscles with a grimace as the boys came running back, their cargo safely delivered to the smithy. They grinned up at the men innocently.  
  
'Don't just stand there, lads, help us!' Jack pleaded, leaning on the anvil as his feet slipped from under him again.  
  
'Empuje con Jack,' James told Galeno, who shrugged, tugging Matthew to help him as they took up a position on either side of the pirate captain. 'Uno, dos, tres - el empujón!'  
  
With a roar, they threw their weight into the task, and the anvil continued its ponderous way up to the smithy amid much grunting and swearing. As they came within sight of the main buildings, they were greeted with a cheer, their wives nodding gracefully to them as they huffed and puffed their way onward.  
  
Laura laughed at the sight of her cool and collected husband sweating copiously as he heaved on the ropes. In her arms, Beth hiccuped, staring up at her accusingly, as though it were all her fault. She smiled fondly down at the child, extending the smile to Esperanza, who sat beside Marin, watching the other boys fighting.   
  
Dugan circled Devante, his sabre held in a loose grip as he feinted first right, then left. The Spanish boy ignored the first feint, but fell into the second, stumbling forwards into the sand as Dugan neatly side-stepped his lunge with a high-pitched laugh. Marin swallowed a laugh of her own at the sound. Dugan had reached the age where certain things were changing, and his voice was making the most of it, squeaking at the most inappropriate moments. Unfortunately for him, Devante had already been through such irritations, and so any teasing he endured now could not be retaliated in kind, hence the rough and tumble play-fighting.  
  
'El hijo mugriento de un escocés,' Devante was muttering as he stood up, raising his voice as he turned to face his friend once more. 'You no fight fair, my friend.'  
  
Dugan laughed again, shrugging as he winked at Esperanza.   
  
'Who does?' he asked the other boy, leaping sideways once again as Devante threw himself at him, this time laughing as well as he slammed into one of the houses.   
  
'Always knoo the scenery aroond ye,' Dugan told him, somehow managing not to look up at Marin as he spoke.   
  
She gasped in mock outrage.  
  
'Dugan Fitzroy, I taught you that!' she called. 'If he cheats again, come to me and I'll teach you how to fight, Devante.'  
  
Devante saluted her smartly, swiftly blocking Dugan's next blow with a powerful thrust that sent the Scottish boy's blade skidding across the sand. As he scrambled to retrieve it, Devante nodded to Marin.  
  
'Mis Gracias, la señora, pero pueden tener mi propio, pienso,' he called, spinning just in time to duck Dugan's next wild thrust.   
  
'Yes, I should think you can,' Marin murmured, wincing as the boys went tumbling again.   
  
There was a thin wail from beside her, and she glanced up at Laura to find the young woman blushing bright crimson as Beth tried to nurse through her gown. Laughing, Marin relieved her friend of her daughter, and set the baby to nurse, completely unashamed of the maternal act despite being in full view of everyone.   
  
'I'll never understand how you can do that,' Laura sighed, sitting down beside her friend to watch as the boys clashed together once again, this time both coming up with a mouthful of sand. 'Is there supposed to be that much rolling around?'  
  
Marin smiled indulgently.  
  
'Not normally, no,' she admitted. 'But I suppose it does depend on who you're fighting. Dugan does seem to prefer the ground to his own feet.'  
  
'I heard that,' he muttered as they tumbled past, sabres forgotten in the heat of the 'battle'.  
  
Esperanza laughed, clapping her hands in applause as they rolled to their feet again, clearly enjoying the spectacle they had put on for her. Laura smiled to see the weak girl looking so alive as she followed the fighting with bright eyes. Marin sighed softly, looking over at her friend with a slightly sad expression.  
  
'I suppose you and James will be going back to Port Royale soon, won't you?' she asked lightly, though Laura could hear the regret that coloured her words.   
  
'I suppose we will,' she agreed. 'After all, we have been here nearly five months, Marin, and Mother will so want to hear about Beth, and the village. And James has the Navy to return to . . . duty and so on.'  
  
Marin sneaked a sly glance at her friend, laughing quietly to herself.  
  
'Is duty already stealing your husband from you?' she teased, laughing out loud as Laura rolled her eyes in exasperation at her.  
  
'Of course not!' she exclaimed. 'But it will, soon, and he will have to be back in Port Royale. I shall miss you, very much, while we are gone.'  
  
Marin's smile turned secretive, and she reached across to touch her friend's arm gently.  
  
'Just you make sure you come back in around eight or nine months' time,' she told her. 'I'll need you, then.'  
  
Laura's jaw dropped, her eyes going wide in astonishment.  
  
'You're pregnant again?' she gasped, incredulous. 'Already?'  
  
Marin shrugged.  
  
'So it would seem,' she laughed quietly. 'Only don't tell Jack or James yet. I'm waiting for the opportune moment.'  
  
'But how has Jack not realised?' Laura pressed her. 'Elizabeth . . .'  
  
Her voice trailed off momentarily, Marin reaching across to touch her arm in acknowledgement of the pain of remembrance. Swallowing, Laura continued, pushing aside the sorrow that bit into her heart on thinking of her beloved cousin.  
  
'Elizabeth told me you had terrible morning sickness. Is it different this time around?'  
  
Marin lifted Beth to her shoulder, gently rubbing the tiny girl's back as she smiled softly.  
  
'No, I still have morning sickness,' she assured her friend. 'I guess he's not realised because I'm always the first one up, and on land, I don't have to climb over him to get out of bed.'  
  
There was a crash, and a plethora of swear words filled the air, very few of which were in English. Amata appeared in the doorway, her voice strident as she took her oldest son to task for using such language in front of his sister. He stared at her helplessly from where he lay on the sand, held down by Dugan's foot on his chest. The Scottish boy knelt swiftly, his back to the women on the bench, and stood again, turning to bow low to Esperanza and present her with a flower he had picked from beside her fallen brother's head.   
  
'For the prettiest flower on the island,' he said with a charming smile, winking at her as she took it from his hand.  
  
Esperanza blushed sweetly on hearing Marin translate this, and sent him a shy smile.  
  
'Gracias, senor Dugan,' she said softly, nodding back to him as he bent to heave her brother to his feet and they trailed off, in search of an adventure to keep them busy.   
  
Laura and Marin exchanged a glance over the girl's head as she delicately sniffed the bloom in her hand. Puberty had definitely hit Dugan hard.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Un asno de tres patas lo podría mover más rápido que eso!  
  
- A three-legged donkey could move it faster than that!  
  
Empuje con Jack. Uno, dos, tres - el empujón!  
  
- Push with Jack. One, two, three - push!  
  
El hijo mugriento de un escocés  
  
- Filthy son of a Scot  
  
Mis Gracias, la señora, pero pueden tener mi propio, pienso  
  
- My thanks, madam, but I can hold my own, I think  
  
Gracias, senor Dugan  
  
- Thank you, master Dugan. 


	21. Caribbean Twilight

Dusky twilight fell soft across the little island, the moon illuminating the people as they spun tales and sang songs for one another's entertainment. It was the first real celebration they had had since joining the island, the second birthday of one Matthew Turner, and the whole village had turned out to wish him the best. Out along the beaches, lovers walked together, holding hands, kissing under the stars, completely free to feel as they wanted to feel and not bound by the laws of the society they had been born into. The ocean lapped gently at the shoreline, soothing those who wished to sleep with her calming song.   
  
James leant back in the dim light, his hands finding purchase on the warm sand of the beach as Laura thumped down beside him, wriggling her bare toes in the same sands. He smiled affectionately at her, seeing so many changes in his lovely wife, changes that he felt were for the better. He had found her beautiful in the confines of Port Royale, reined in by social etiquette and expectations of how she should act and look, but here, now, with her slender figure untouched by the bones of a corset and her long dark hair left loose to flow down her back, James knew she was the most breath-taking vision of beauty he could ever wish to see. Her laughter came more easily, in response to words and acts that she found funny, not that others felt she should be amused by.   
  
Unfettered by society, she had thrown herself into the daily routine of the island with enthusiasm, unafraid to admit that she had never washed a shirt before, or swept a floor, and so willing to learn that the women had taken her under their wing as they had Marin only a couple of months before. For himself, he found it wonderful to be just one of the men once again, working alongside men like Solomon and Gibbs again as they coaxed a village from the piles of building materials that littered the island. He felt more himself here, on this island, than he had ever had the chance to before. It would be a great shame when they had to return to the enclosed life that Port Royale held for them.   
  
She leant sideways, her hair tumbling across his chest and back as her head rested against his shoulder. James lifted an arm to wrap about her, thwarted in his intention when she stood up again, moving towards the water, unaware that her husband wanted to show her some affection. He rose to his feet, his toes digging into the sand as he moved to embrace her from behind, capturing his thoughtful wife in his arms as she stared out, across the Caribbean.  
  
'I love you,' he murmured, kissing her cheeks softly, still surprised at how easily such displays of affection came to him.  
  
Laura smiled gently, leaning back into his arms as his cheek slipped against hers. There was a laugh from further down the shoreline, and they both glanced up, to grin in recognition of the two figures dancing clumsily together in the moonlight. No one could ever mistake the hat and dreadlocks for anyone other than Jack Sparrow, and no one would dare to think that the woman in his arms was anyone other than his Marin. They were twirling about the sands together, stumbling and laughing in the carefree manner James had come to expect of his cousin and her husband. And the manner he had found himself copying in the months they had been here.  
  
'It's good to hear them laugh,' Laura murmured quietly. 'Jack doesn't laugh enough.'  
  
James sighed softly, understanding his friend's melancholy perhaps better than Marin herself.  
  
'That's because he's on land, love,' he told her, his voice as soft as the breeze that pulled at her hair. 'Jack Sparrow is a rover at heart, he wasn't meant to settle down on land. The reason he doesn't laugh as often as you think he should is because he is not as happy as he appears with this life. But he doesn't want to let Marin down by becoming moody and useless ashore.'  
  
Laura was silent, taking this explanation in carefully before she spoke again.   
  
'Then why are they still ashore?' she asked him. 'Marin must know her husband's heart is at sea.'  
  
'She does,' James said ruefully. 'But Jack won't have Beth on board the Pearl until she's a year old. Until then, one of them will have to be with her constantly, and on board a ship that's nigh impossible.'  
  
Laura frowned, realising that Marin's news for Jack would set their plans back another year. So that was why she was waiting for her opportune moment. James pulled her back against him, carefully kneeling so she was cradled in his arms on the sand. They sat together for long moments, listening to the laughter of their friends as it died away, and the sounds of the village as they faded softly into the background.   
  
'Why don't we stay here?' James said suddenly, his voice firm as he spoke, startling his young wife from her thoughts.  
  
Laura blinked, craning her neck to look him in the eye.  
  
'Do you really mean that?' she asked softly, trying to curb the eager joy that had begun to pound through her.  
  
James smiled down at her, glad to see that she, too, felt no pressing need to return to Port Royale.   
  
'There's no life but that of command in the Navy for me there,' he told her, needing to explain despite her obvious willingness. 'And I have no desire for such a life any longer. I want to be near family, to have a life where I am close to you, wherever I am. I want to be myself, with no uniform or rank to hide behind.'  
  
'I know,' she murmured, turning to lean back into his embrace once again. 'I hate the courtesies and etiquette of society, having to say the right thing and look the right way, always walking the line between being accepted or being outcast. I want to stay here, so very much, and be a wife to you the way a woman should be.'  
  
James' arms tightened around her, hearing his longing for a simple life echoed in her words. He dropped a tender kiss at her temple, resting his head against hers as she sighed softly.  
  
'Then here we stay, love,' he promised softly, feeling the weight of years of command and responsibility suddenly lift.   
  
Before she could reply, Laura was interrupted by a startled exclamation from the other couple who were sharing the moonlight.  
  
'You're WHAT?'  
  
Both she and James looked up to see Marin gesturing animatedly at her husband as he stared at her from a few metres away. Laura felt her heart freeze for a moment, certain that Jack would be angry with his wife for her unexpected revelation. Then his hand ventured towards Marin, fingers tentatively touching her waistline as he raised his eyes to hers, and as the commodore and his wife watched, he swept her up in his arms, kissing her deeply under the stars. James felt his wife relax, wondering why she had been so suddenly uptight in the first place.  
  
'I suppose you know what that was about, don't you?' he asked her, sighing when she nodded in silence. 'Is there any possibility of my knowing?'  
  
There was a short pause, somehow fraught with some intense emotion James could not identify. When Laura spoke, her voice was tight, as though she were concealing something from him that he was not to know.  
  
'Marin's expecting another child,' she told him shortly, drawing in a deep breath as he grinned to himself in the darkness.   
  
He was about to speak when a shudder went through the young woman in his arms, punctuated by softly expelled breaths. He listened closer, and realised to his shock that his wife was crying.  
  
'Laura?' he ventured, gently turning her to face him. 'Darling, what's wrong?'  
  
Tears sparkled in the moonlight as they ran down her cheeks. She raised her hands to her face, trying to hide her tears from her husband, but he held them in his own, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. The sorrow within was heart-breaking to behold.   
  
'Why couldn't it have been me?' she whispered brokenly. 'I've tried everything I can think of. Why can't I give you a child?'  
  
James felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He drew her against his chest, rocking her gently as she sobbed. He'd had no idea she was trying for a baby, or that her efforts were slowly breaking her heart as they appeared to be. Her hands clutched at his shirt as she sobbed, his palm running soft across her hair in the growing darkness.  
  
Slowly the tears dried up, and Laura raised her eyes to meet his, her expression one of alarm and regret.  
  
'I'm sorry,' she began, but he cut her off.  
  
'Darling, there is nothing for you to be sorry for,' he told her. 'I had no idea you wanted a baby so much. If anyone is to blame, it is me for not noticing that you needed me to care.'  
  
Laura shook her head vehemently, grasping his shirt in her fists.  
  
'No, you can't blame yourself,' she insisted. 'And it's not that I particularly want a child, but it's my duty as your wife to provide you with an heir. I just don't understand how Marin can find herself expecting a second child when I have yet to conceive once.'  
  
James' expression darkened for a split second on hearing one of the words he most hated slipping from his wife's innocent lips.   
  
'Hang duty,' he hissed, calming himself when she jerked back in alarm. 'If I had wanted only an heir, I would have married a woman who had proved herself to be fertile. I want you. I love you, Laura, I don't care if we have to wait for children. You have no duty to me at all. Duty is what made me who I was before I met Marin and you, and I have no desire to see it do the same to you. Just be my wife, love, and leave the children to the one who decides all this.'  
  
Laura stared at him, surprised beyond words at his insistence. She would never have believed that he could feel so strongly about anything so domestic as children. A hesitant smile lit up her face as he leant down to kiss her gently.  
  
'Besides,' he murmured. 'Would you really want to have a child so young as Beth with another on the way?'  
  
His wicked smile did what he had hoped it would. A giggle erupted from his forlorn wife, wiping away the traces of unhappiness as she laughed at the thought of the life Marin and Jack had ahead of them. James smiled gently, pleased he had set his wife's mind at rest. The last thing he needed was grief now, especially in light of Jack's plans for the coming week.   
  
'Marin wanted to know if you would come with us when we sail in two days' time,' he asked suddenly, realising that he had better ask this question before he forgot completely.   
  
Laura frowned, slightly confused.  
  
'Where are you going?' she asked him.  
  
James sighed, trying to ignore the memories of what he had been doing this time last year, or more importantly, who had been bullying them into doing it. Marin would have a hard time of it this coming week, he knew.  
  
'Just off the headland of Port Royale,' he told his wife. 'There's something we have to do.'  
  
'What is it?' Laura pressed him, and he couldn't blame her for being curious. She hadn't even been in the Caribbean when everything had blown up in his family's face.  
  
'You've heard us talk of Elias Fitzpatrick, haven't you, and the battle in which he died?' he said softly, unable to face his wife's curious expression as the memory of that terrible night came flooding back. 'That was two years ago, come this week. We forgot to remember him last year, so we decided to do so this year, if only for Marin's sake.'  
  
Laura was touched by the sorrow in her husband's voice. Not even Elizabeth's death had affected him like this. She reached out to cup his cheek.  
  
'He must have been a very special man,' she said quietly.   
  
James tore his gaze from the ocean to look down at her with disquieting eyes.  
  
'He was one of the best you could have ever met,' he told her, speaking against the lump that rose in his throat.  
  
She watched him for a long moment, holding his gaze with all the gentle love and understanding she could muster, while not quite knowing how a pirate such as the man they had described to her could mean so much to her friends and family. But he had, and if this was how they planned to remember him, then she would not stand in their way.   
  
'No,' she said gently. 'I won't go. It's for those of you who knew him and remember him. I knew nothing of the man but that he was my friend's guardian, and he knew nothing of me. It isn't right that I should be present where Elizabeth cannot.'  
  
James felt his heart constrict on hearing her say such words that must have cost her a great deal of pain. She had seen through Marin's request for her with ease, and in a way he was glad. He had no wish for her to witness the grief that Elias' death had caused, even in retrospect, and understood her reluctance. He smiled and nodded, kissing her palm where it lay against his cheek.  
  
'Thank you,' he murmured, drawing her back into his arms. Laura sighed contentedly, smiling as he kissed her hair. This was how she wished her life to be, simple and uncomplicated, with time to spare to sit with her beloved husband beneath the Caribbean twilight. 


	22. Joy Be With You

The dawn rose bright and clear that morning, shining in through the unshuttered windows of the island village to awaken those who would leave its shores for a few hours that day. Laura rolled over sleepily, allowing her husband to slip regretfully from their bed and dress, watching him as his memories schooled his expression into one of sorrowful remembrance. She pulled herself out of the bed, drawing her own garments over her head as he dragged his boots onto his feet.   
  
In silence, they made their way to the doorway of their home, where he took his leave of her, moving swiftly to join his cousin and their friends as they walked solemnly down to the ships. Their crews walked with them, their faces solemn, their movements strangely formal. Not a word was spoken between them as they walked this well-worn path to greet the dead on this day of mourning. Both ships had been dressed with sails of black, the ropes tarred to match the cloth that would propel them to the captain's resting place. The Red Dragon seemed to stand taller in the water, determined, from her bilge to her maintop, to do her former captain proud.   
  
Esteban stood in the doorway of his house, his wife and children gathered around him. They had never seen such a solemn occasion, especially among those they had always been told had no honour or emotion to speak of. The months they had spent among the pirates had taught them otherwise, and now they felt for their friends as the crews of both Dragon and Pearl made ready to visit a time many wished they could forget.   
  
The air of sorrow that hung over them was palatable, affecting the children as they stood together. Devante unconsciously wrapped an arm about his sister, something that would never happen normally, even as Esteban absently lifted his youngest son into his arms. The little family watched the solemn procession as they rowed out to the ships and clambered on board, the captains and their families among the last. And slowly the ships lurched from the natural harbour, to sail gently to their old friend's final resting place.  
  
Aboard the Dragon, the men remained silent, following the orders Will gave out in a muted voice without banter or complaint. They knew the reason for this voyage, each felt the need to say goodbye one last time. They had done what the old dragon had asked of them, lost men in the struggle to complete his final orders, and now could finally put him to rest, safe in the knowledge that not even Elias Fitzpatrick could find a reason to haunt them now.   
  
Will stood at the helm, trying hard to forget that there was one other who should be making this journey with them. Somehow, Elizabeth's absence made this all the harder for him. He needed her strength, her confidence in him, to see him through this painful day, the reminder of the day he had taken life in cold blood, without mercy, for the sake of his friend and her own. His son stood unsteadily by his side, holding onto the top of his boot for balance as the Dragon rolled ponderously towards the headland. Will knew there was no way Matthew could understand the reason for this outing, but somehow the child knew to stay quiet, to respect the silence that surrounded him. Despite himself, Will was proud of his son, and he knew Elizabeth would have been too.  
  
Hopkins, the old first mate who had served under Elias Fitzpatrick from when he was a young lad to the day he died, found himself regarding his young captain with fresh eyes, eyes that saw the similarities between Will Turner and the dragon who had given him the care of the ship he had loved so well. Both strong willed and stubborn, both driven by the love of someone close to them, both nurtured with a deep love of the ocean that surrounded them. And both had earnt the respect of a seasoned crew, without complaint or mutiny, by simply being as they were, and expecting no less. Yes, he nodded. Old Fitzpatrick had chosen well for his loyal friends, and they all knew it.  
  
Along the way, down on the main deck, Dugan leant wearily against the rail, staring out across to the Pearl as she slipped through the water beside them. His eyes followed Marin as she walked with Jack, her daughter cradled close in her arms and her eyes dark with that haunting sorrow that had almost torn her apart in the days after Elias' death. He could not shake the feeling that he should not be there, that he had somehow failed Elias when Elizabeth had been killed. He knew nothing anyone said would remove the guilt from his soul, not even his captain. Will had told him time and again that he was proud to have him in his crew and as his friend, and though Dugan had been overjoyed to hear it, he could not bring himself to believe it. This, from the man whose wife he failed to save.   
  
Gibbs made his slow way along the deck to where Jack and Marin stood together, both engrossed in their daughter, and their memories. He touched his cap respectfully, somehow nudged into remembering his navy training by the pall that hung over them.  
  
'Beggin' yer pardon, cap'n, but there's a ship approaching the headland from Port Royale,' he said softly, unwilling to break the silence. 'They've put up a signal, but I never had the learning of such, sir.'  
  
Jack's rueful grin was muted as he looked on his first mate.  
  
'I don't believe that for a moment, mate,' he chuckled, his suspicions confirmed as Gibbs flashed him a sly smile. 'Who is it and what do they want?'  
  
At this, Gibbs glanced past them to where James leant against the rail. He'd been watching the commodore closely since the ship had come within sight, and knew for a fact that he would have read the signal as soon as it was flown.  
  
'Don't feel it be my place to say, cap'n,' he muttered.   
  
The commodore gave him a flat look, sighing as Marin turned to her cousin in confusion.  
  
'What's going on?' she asked, shifting Beth up onto her shoulder.   
  
James glanced between her and Jack, noticing with no little irritation that Gibbs had scarpered hastily.   
  
'It's the Dauntless,' he told them, ignoring for a moment the look of surprise that crossed their faces. 'Captain Gillette requests permission to lay off and join us in our remembrance of those who were lost.'  
  
Marin's expression softened abruptly, tears beginning to collect in her eyes as the memory of the lost swept over her. Jack's arm snaked about her shoulders, his fingers gently caressing his daughter's cheek.   
  
'Tell them they're welcome, mate,' the captain told him, and James nodded, glancing over to where Solomon and Harry already had the signal flags out.   
  
He moved away, leaving Marin to glance up at Jack in confusion.  
  
'Why should the navy want to remember pirates?' she asked him, wincing as Beth grasped a handful of her hair.  
  
'The same reason anyone remembers the lost, love,' Jack told her softly, carefully pulling the copper strands out of their daughter's grip. 'It was a waste of life, no matter what they would have chosen to do with their lives had they lived.'  
  
Marin nodded slowly, not quite understanding this. Jack shrugged.  
  
'And it's a chance to make sure the dear commodore isn't being treated badly by the wicked pirates,' he added.  
  
They heard the quiet shouts as the Dauntless approached, dropping her anchor so that she would come to a halt beside the Pearl. The men aboard were in full uniform, turned out beautifully as they lined the ship's side. The officers were gathered on the forecastle, flipping salutes across to James where he stood with his cousin as they stepped aside for their passenger to acknowledge the other ships. Governor Swann nodded solemnly to them as he moved to stand at the ship's rail, breathing deeply of the sea air. The Dragon drew up on the other side of the Pearl, and was swiftly ready for them, the men standing to face the ocean where they had lost such good friends.  
  
The boarding planks thumped into place, and Marin, James, and Jack walked across to the Red Dragon, thumping aboard with steps that sounded suddenly too loud in the eerie silence that surrounded them. Will met them on the main deck, Matthew held close in his arms as they made their way together up to the poop deck. The ships were silent, even the sails seemed muted as they flapped in the breeze.  
  
Jack was the first to speak, stepping forward to address the ocean as his voice carried across the flat calm waves.  
  
'Well, we made it, Fitz,' he said. 'Followed your instructions to the letter, and we found the gold. It was a good adventure. You'd have enjoyed it.'  
  
'I kept my promise,' Marin spoke up, her voice trembling in the clear air. 'You made me make a promise and I kept it, regardless of any doubts I might have had. And I'm glad, Elias, because . . . I'm happy. And it's all because of you.'  
  
Jack's hand reached out to squeeze her shoulder as her head drooped, her posture slumping under the weight of her grief.   
  
'But I miss you,' she sobbed quietly, her words stolen by the breeze.   
  
Choked, James moved to say his piece, even as Marin was folded into her husband's embrace. He swallowed carefully, feeling Will at his shoulder as the two men tried to think of what they could say.   
  
'How can I ever repay you for what you have given me, Captain?' Will said. 'In all I have suffered, this ship, this crew you foisted upon me in your dying hours have kept me alive. They've supported me through everything, and I have you to thank for that. Look after her for me, Elias. She's in your care now.'  
  
No one needed to ask who she was, as Will and Jack stepped back, leaving James and Marin to settle with their cousin's spirit.   
  
'Everything's as you intended it to be, cousin,' James murmured. 'Marin and Jack are settled, the Dragon in good hands, the gold distributed. Now there's only one thing left to do.'  
  
Marin withdrew her hand from her shirt, holding her fist over the water.   
  
'Tis only right you should see some of what you died for,' she managed, and opened her fist.  
  
Gold sparkled in the afternoon sunlight as four golden coins fell, flashing, into the sea, to rest beside the man who had lead his family to them. The ships remained silent long after the echoes of the splash had died away, no one quite knowing how to break the silence. Then a soft voice did so, sending a lilting, painfully familiar melody out across the water.   
  
'Oh, all the money that e'er you spent,  
  
You spent it in good company . . .'  
  
Marin turned with wide eyes to stare at Jack as he sang the tune, his gaze fixed on some point far out to sea. Almost without thinking, she raised her voice to join his, feeling the weight of the grief that had haunted her for two years begin to slowly lift from her heart.  
  
'And all the harm that e'er you've done  
  
Alas, it was to none but thee . . .'  
  
James glanced at Will, and found the younger man murmuring the familiar words beneath his breath, lacking the courage to raise his voice to wind around the others.  
  
'And all you've done for want of wit  
  
To memory now, I can't recall . . .'  
  
The blacksmith sighed softly, finally letting himself sing with his friends, and let his memories go.  
  
'So fill to me the parting glass  
  
Goodnight, and joy be with you . . .'  
  
Slowly, the crew of the Red Dragon took up the haunting melody, winding harmony and counter-harmony around it out of habit. The Pearl and the Dauntless lay silent, listening as those who had known the old captain said their last goodbye to him in the only way they knew how.  
  
'Oh, all the comrades that e'er you've had  
  
Are sorry for your going away  
  
And all the sweethearts that e'er you had  
  
Would wish you one more day to stay . . .  
  
James felt a small hand slip into his, looking down to find Marin smiling up at him through her tears, her voice as strong as it had ever been since the night she had sung this very song to her dying guardian. Encouraged by her strength, he began to sing with her, feeling the release that she had felt as the words drifted out across the water.  
  
'But since it falls unto your lot  
  
That you should rise, and we should not,  
  
You'll gently rise, and we'll softly call . . .'  
  
And so it was, on a clear autumn day, beneath the warm sun of the Caribbean, the spirit of Elias Fitzpatrick, and those who had fought and died with him, was finally laid to rest with the song that had seen him safe to the next world.  
  
'Goodnight, and joy be with you . . .'  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ildera: I hope the three chapters makes up for the long wait and lack of A/N . . . but I am a bit busy at the mo. If you're desperate to know the real reasons behind my erratic posting, don't hesitate to ask. So, until next time! 


	23. Whatever Happens

Just a quick note that I forgot to put on the last posting - I'm nineteen! Yay me! Anywho, onwards!  
  
*~*~*  
  
It wasn't the sound of the storm that shook Jack from his deep slumber, nor the loud thumps and clangs that were emanating from the newly fired up smithy. No, it was the familiar sound of his wife singing softly, and the unfamiliar sense of being alone in his bed. He opened his eyes, turning his head to find her sat close by the bed, Beth cradled in her arms, against the encroaching swell of her mother's waistline, as she sang one lilting melody after another. One look at the child told him that there was no need for such soothing sounds, but Marin seemed somehow lost this evening, as though she was the one who needed the comfort of a familiar voice to send her off to sleep.  
  
He watched her silently, feeling within himself once again that slight disbelief that his life had worked out the way it had. A little over three years before, he had been his own person, with his ship and his crew beside him, no thought of settling on land had ever occurred to him. And now, he was married to a fiery woman who stood no taller than his shoulder, father to a beautiful daughter and an unknown quantity that would be born within the next couple of months, settled into life on an island . . . and not missing the ocean as much as he had thought he would.   
  
Glancing past his wife and daughter, to look out at the storm through the glass windows Esteban had insisted on having in all the little houses, Jack could see across the little square to where the smithy door stood open, despite the weather. Will stood inside, his forge lighting up the room, making him seem somehow bigger than he was as he brought his hammer down hard on the anvil. Jack smiled faintly. A smithy was definitely Will's element, though he had been a good pirate. Perhaps that wandering restlessness that had plagued him since the business with Barbossa would finally let him be now.  
  
Matthew was growing fast, his looks thankfully a sweet mix of Will and Elizabeth. Jack did not know how they would have coped had Elizabeth's son grown up to look just like her. As it stood, he was a dark-haired stocky lad, with eyes the colour of the sky after a storm, and a robust sense of humour that only Gibbs could have instilled into him. He spent much of his days with his father, learning quickly where in the smithy he could and couldn't go, and how he could help Will with the sheer volume of orders the young blacksmith had received.   
  
Even after all this time, Will Turner was still the best blacksmith within five islands, and now, people knew where they could find him. Ships visited the island everyday, sometimes bringing supplies and items to trade. At other times their cargo would be people, whole families who wished to settle among the pirates, and were often welcomed with open arms. And weaving in and out of all this were the Royal Navy's men, who made sure nothing untoward happened on the island.   
  
No one was particularly happy about their presence, least of all James, who felt that his past should have stayed in Port Royale where he left it. Despite having resigned his commission to live alongside his cousin and friends here on the island, he had found himself in command of the small troop of marines who had been sent out to the island, and was not in the least bit amused. In fact, he seemed to spend every day on the lookout for a reason to send them all back home again.  
  
His partners in this were the other children of the island, led by none other than Dugan and Devante. Both boys had suddenly shot up in height, and soon no one would be able to deny that they were becoming young men. Dugan's familiar impish smile had matured into a mischievous grin that seemed to have the most peculiar effect on the island's young girls, as indeed, Devante's wild Hispanic looks did also.   
  
The only one who seemed completely unaffected by their posturing and attempts at impressing her was Esperanza, who had changed beyond all recognition in the ten or so months that she and her family had been on the island. The once weak, sickly little girl had grown tall and slender, her health improving by the day in the warmth of the Caribbean climate. She was as lovely as her brother was handsome, and no one would guess now that they were anything other than twins. Dugan's fascination with her had not abated, and Jack had heard from various sources that she was not averse to his advances. It looked like the island was well on its way to its first wedding.  
  
And Marin . . . Jack smiled to himself as his gaze returned to his preoccupied wife. Well, Marin had been made the unofficial governor of her little island, the one people turned to when they needed a situation dealt with. It was, after all, Marin who had wrested control of her island back from the slavers, and in doing so, freed the former slaves who now made their home with her. It was Marin who had sent for building materials, trading supplies and food, and it was her call that had been answered by the various ships and ports. And it was Marin who welcomed everyone who wanted to live among them with open arms, trusting her gut instinct to tell her if something was amiss.  
  
Jack was inordinately proud of his wife, and everything she had accomplished. He knew that there was not one person on the island who would even consider turning against her, and it wasn't because they were fearful of her temper. It was because not one of them wanted to face the bitter disappointment that they would cause in her. Marin held them in the palm of her hand because of who she was, nothing more. And Jack was pleased to be able to admit that he had been clutched in that fist longer than most.  
  
She sighed suddenly, shaking herself out of her reverie with an inward smile as she noticed her husband's watchful eyes on her.   
  
'Can't sleep, love?' he asked softly, not seeing the need to climb out of the bed to talk with her.   
  
Marin shook her head, standing to gently lay her daughter within her own blankets once again. She winced, reaching behind her to rub tired fingers across the small of her back as she straightened. Jack sat up, alarmed. Marin had never said anything about back pain during her pregnancy, and yet she was obviously feeling it. Who knew what else she was hiding from him?  
  
She saw his alarmed look and couldn't prevent herself from grinning as she returned to lie by his side, groaning in pleasure as the muscles in her back relaxed slowly. Jack slipped an arm about her, chuckling as an energetic foot within her womb objected to the familiar pressure.  
  
'Active little bugger tonight, isn't he?' he murmured, holding himself up on one elbow so that he could watch her as she slowly let herself sleep.   
  
'I don't know why you're so certain it will be a boy,' Marin argued sleepily, stretching against the sheets like a cat. 'It could just as easily be another girl.'  
  
Jack shrugged.  
  
'It could, aye,' he conceded. 'But two pounds says it'll be a boy.'  
  
Marin laughed suddenly. She loved the way Jack had refused to let go of his piratical ways, even with her.   
  
'Done,' she agreed. 'You do realise you've not yet won a bet with me?'  
  
Jack grinned.   
  
'Everyone's got to start somewhere, love,' he chuckled. 'One day I'll win, and then every day after that will be my winning streak.'  
  
His wife snorted incredulously.   
  
'Yeah, just like every time you visited Port Royale you used to be caught and put in jail,' she pointed out, trying not to laugh at his pained expression.  
  
'Whenever we get onto anything like this, you always bring that up,' he winced.  
  
'Well, it just illustrates my point,' she shrugged, flinching as a rather hard kick thumped against the inside of her womb. 'Jack, I think you should move your arm.'  
  
His hand was already moving, this time to lie gently against the arm closest to his body and let their child settle without distractions.  
  
'I think this one's going to be trouble,' he murmured, making her giggle quietly at the foreboding tone of his voice. 'Besides, what is your point, love, that my being locked up illustrates it so well?'  
  
'I don't know,' Marin yawned. 'I'm too tired for constructive thought.'  
  
Jack gave her a mock glare.  
  
'You don't have a point, do you?' he asked shrewdly, vindicated by her slight blush as she answered him.   
  
'I do,' she defended herself indignantly. 'I just haven't had the chance to work out all the little bits of it yet.'  
  
Jack's laugh was low and triumphant.  
  
'Like the point itself,' he grinned. 'Love, you still blush when you lie.'  
  
Marin rolled her eyes in consternation, raising her hands to press her fingers against her rosy cheeks. Jack pulled her hands down gently, kissing her cheeks with a wicked grin.  
  
'I reckon old Fitz must have enjoyed watching you blush,' he laughed softly. 'After all, the only time you do is when you lie.'  
  
'Oh, I can remember a couple of times when I couldn't lie and I still blushed,' Marin chuckled, finding herself caught up in her husband's good humour.   
  
Jack's eyebrows rose in interest.  
  
'May I ask when?' he inquired.  
  
Marin's smile was secretively victorious.  
  
'You can ask all you like,' she said cheekily. 'But I'm going to sleep.'  
  
She turned over, pulling the blanket across herself as Jack settled down behind her, his arm slipping around her waist to lie comfortably atop her bump. There was no movement from the child within, thank heavens.  
  
'Beth's not going to like not being the only child, is she?' Jack murmured suddenly in the darkness, his breath blowing warm air into her hair.   
  
Marin sighed.  
  
'No, I don't think so,' she said, her voice almost inaudible. 'But there's nothing we can do about it.'  
  
A gentle kiss was planted beneath her ear, accompanied by the familiar scratch of Jack's beard as he worked his way down her neck to stop at her shoulder.   
  
'We'll weather that storm when we come to it,' he told her, breathing in her intriguing scent of sea salt, musk and some feminine smell he could not describe as anything other than Marin. 'Whatever happens.'  
  
Marin nodded slowly, her face rubbing against the pillow.  
  
'But what if -'  
  
A tender hand covered her mouth, cutting off what she had been about to say.   
  
'What ifs make for sleepless nights,' Jack muttered drowsily. 'Go to sleep, love, we'll worry about it in the morning.'  
  
As if to reinforce his gentle order, the child in her womb moved carefully and slowly, and Marin could feel it rearranging itself to sleep comfortably. A soft smile touched her lips as she let her eyes drift closed. If this one did turn out to be a boy, then it seemed she'd have two Jack Sparrows on her hands.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Ildera: And the A/N returns! Ahoy mates!  
  
Jack: *shaking his head* Isn't it a wonder what hormones can do to a rational soul?  
  
James: I wouldn't dream of commenting on it.  
  
Jack: *shrugs* Nah, you're too much of a gentleman. Whereas I, on the other hand, am a pirate.  
  
James: *dryly* I would never have guessed.  
  
Ildera: Boys, please. You promised.  
  
*Both hang their heads for a moment*  
  
James + Jack: Sorry, 'dera.  
  
Ildera: *snigger* I love being the author . . . what was it I was going to say? *thinks*  
  
*dustball blows across monitor*  
  
Ildera: Oh yes! Well, my dears, would you believe I have actually finished Fair Wind Or Foul? Don't panic, there's a quite a bit of it left to be posted, but I am stuck as to how you might like it. All in one lump, or spread out a bit? And what shall I do now I have no Marin and Jack to occupy my time? *hint, hint* I need suggestions, people!  
  
Jack: I, for one, don't wish to become a wasted muse, trapped inside her head for all eternity.  
  
Ildera: And what's wrong with my head?  
  
Jack: Nothing, love, nothing. It's just, well, it's just a tad crowded in here, what with your entire cast of performers making their homes in various recesses.  
  
Ildera: Ah. Sorry.   
  
James: We understand, 'dera. Not your fault.  
  
Jack: But -  
  
James: *treads heavily on Jack's foot* Shall we proceed with the reviews? *smiles and bows*  
  
Ildera: Ooooh . . .  
  
*THUD*  
  
Jack: *stops hopping around and bursts out laughing*  
  
James: My goodness! What happened?  
  
Jack: It would appear, mate, that although our dear 'dera is immune to both the Sparrow grin and the Turner smile, she's never been visited full force by the Norrington charm before. Don't worry, she'll wake up in a minute.  
  
James: *peering at 'dera's inert form* Are you quite sure?  
  
Jack Fairly. *chuckles* Ah, it would appear we have new arrivals to the shores of Doubloon and Wind.la chica mysteriosa, my I extend our warmest regards? And those of the author, of course. *reads review* You see, ranting like that won't have any effect on the fair 'dera, here. She knows herself for what she is, and freely admits her evil tendencies . . . right, Jim?  
  
James: *sigh* James. And yes.  
  
Jack: And I've been told rather forcefully not to reveal any of the secrets coming up in the story, and that includes, I'm afraid, my own children. I suppose you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? *grin*  
  
James: *bows to next reviewer* Trinity144, welcome. Do not be ashamed of your tears, 'dera has a habit of dropping emotional scenes on people with all the subtly of a brick. And no, this is not the end. Yet.  
  
Ildera: *groaning* Must resist charm . . .  
  
Jack: Read this, it'll make you feel better.  
  
Ildera: *blinks at review shoved in front of her face* Oooh! heather321, what a lovely compliment! But I hope it doesn't take you another two and a half days to catch up again. Chapters to come? Hmmm . . . six, and an epilogue. *waggles finger warningly* But that's all you're getting out of me until I post them. Oooh, and Ariandir's The Sundered Map ID is 1494114, okay?  
  
Jack: Ms. Baldwin, rum? *offers bottle*  
  
James: Put that away. Good manners dictate that a lady should be offered a 'refreshment' of her choice, not just a half empty bottle you've already downed several times in the past few minutes.  
  
Jack: *taking a swig* Pirate.  
  
James: Unfortunately.  
  
Ildera: Gentlemen, we have business to attend to. *pause* good grief, I'm spending far too much time in their company. I'm even beginning to talk like them. Anywho, Ms. Baldwin, I'm glad you've enjoyed my meanderings so far and I AM keeping up the work, honest I am! I've just run out of ideas, that's all!  
  
James: Lady Quinn, how wonderful to see you once more. I trust you recieved Ildera's email?  
  
Ildera: It wasn't meant to sound churlish or anything . . . I'm just a little agitated at the mo, can't think why. *wink*  
  
Jack: I'm sure 'dera's thrilled you're enjoying the chapters, Elentari II. A little encouragement is all she needs.  
  
James: *mutters* And a lot of cruelty.  
  
Jack: *snorts* Too right, mate.  
  
Ildera: Dryandra, look, an A/N! Don't panic, there will be no more BIG ANNOUNCEMENT for the remainder of the fic. I can't promise for any subsequent fics, but hey . . . humour me. I'm glad you liked the song - it's called the Parting Glass, and I couldn't resist putting it in again.  
  
Jack: Ooof! *splutters as he wipes snow from his face* What was that for?  
  
James: *grin* My apologies, Jack, I was merely following orders.   
  
Jack: Whose orders? Let me see that . . .*snatches review* Oh. *nervous grin* Hello again, Sparrow's Pearl.  
  
Ildera: *sniggering* Oh, that was priceless. Hmm, Will's Wanton Woman? Nah . . . Turner's Tart? Oh, please . . . I think you'd be better sticking to Sparrow's Pearl. Even if he is an annoying rascal at times.  
  
Jack: Hmph. Savy! Love, where have you been? Michael's been missing you . . . and I'll have you know I'm wrapped around no one's little finger, thank you.  
  
James: Just clutched in one rather small fist.  
  
Jack: Exactly. And proud of it.  
  
Ildera: Lucy, you have to keep reading, sweetheart. I have a big surprise for you!  
  
Jack: Is it -  
  
Ildera: *brandishing a cutlass* Not a word, Sparrow, not one word.  
  
Jack: Where did you learn to do that?  
  
Ildera: This? Oh, SP taught me. You know it's amazing how much you pick up when you're teetering at the end of a plank.  
  
James: MarsMoonStar . . . er . . . coolioz, I believe the word is, to you too. And Miss emma436, your suggestion has been taken on board. Keep reading, please.  
  
Ildera: Lady Skywalker, how am I doing? Hit your computer a couple of times for me, would you? I don't like not getting your reviews. And Willette aka Belle, thank you SO much for the graphic description of your orange juice. Breakfast will never be the same again.  
  
Jack: Ariandir! The emails long in the coming, she knows, but she will get back to you at some poitn, I swear.  
  
James: Would you trust the word of a pirate?  
  
Jack: No more'n I'd trust the word of a commodore.  
  
James: Former commodore, thank you.  
  
Jack: *shrugs* Whatever.   
  
Ildera: MiseryLovesCokmpany, don't go! It's not over yet, I swear! And Haul on The Bowline is an actual shanty, would you believe.  
  
James: Shades of a naval family, you see.  
  
Ildera: Much as I may try to hide, my inherant grasp of historical accuracy remains. *sigh*  
  
James: Dell-Doo, I don't believe Dugan has any fans as such, but I shall be sure to pass on your regards.  
  
Jack: You do that, Jamezy-Poo.  
  
James: I do wish you wouldn't read over my shoulder.  
  
Jack: oh, don't you like your new nickname? Shame.  
  
Ildera: Yep, lilitaliandragon, more kiddies, and don't think I'm going to stop there! I was going to email you with my reason for the bizarre posting, but my server wouldn't let me connect with your email address. I'll try again later, maybe it'll work when it's had a bit of time to think about it. And of course Will can sing . . . pirate is in his blood, isn't it?  
  
Jack: And yes, Storm13, my wife does appear to be constantly pregnant.   
  
James: I should think you have a hand in that, Jack.  
  
Ildera: More than a hand.  
  
James: Miss 'dera! Please!  
  
Ildera: * rolling eyes* Sorry. Men with manners, eh?  
  
James: I would ask you not to make a mockery of me, 'dera.  
  
Ildera: You're doing a fine job of that on your own, Jimbo.  
  
James: JIMBO!?!  
  
Jack: Moving swiftly onwards, we shall see you all soon, until then goodbye, now we should go before they kill each other! Drink up, etc! 


	24. The Lesser Of Two Evils

I have yet another apology for my terrible Spanish - SORRY!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Amata clicked her tongue thoughtfully, throwing an amused glance over at the young woman watching from the corner. Laura smiled, intrigued by the methods the Spanish woman employed to ensure that Marin's pregnancy was going well. The lady in question was lying on her back, patiently allowing the older woman to poke and prod and measure whilst trying to ignore her cousin's quiet laughter at her expression.   
  
'El niño es fuerte y sano [The child is strong and healthy],' Amata murmured, almost to herself. 'Pero él no ha girado [But he has not turned].'  
  
Marin exchanged an alarmed look with Laura, who moved forward instinctively to grip her friend's hand.  
  
'What do you mean, he hasn't turned?' Marin blurted out, before remembering herself enough to put the question in Spanish.   
  
Amata raised her hands to appease the worried mother, smiling absently as she ran her hands across Marin's womb once more.  
  
'El miente a través de la matriz [He lies across the womb],' she explained. 'Y él es un niño muy grande [And he is a very large child].'  
  
Laura felt herself grow tense as the wise woman continued her evaluation of Marin's child. Her friend had managed to carry this child to term, but it was showing no signs of actually wanting to be born, unlike his sister who had been positively impatient to be released from her mother. Beth had certainly grown quickly; a vibrant one year old, who walked confidently and could happily chunter away in her own private language for hours on end, occasionally coming out with a phrase that everyone could understand.   
  
Finally Amata allowed Marin to sit up, carefully reiterating her assurances that everything would be fine, that there was no need to worry. Unconvinced, but left with little choice, Marin accepted the older woman's decision and made her slow way back out into the sunshine, Laura close behind her.   
  
'I'm frightened,' she said suddenly, her hand reaching out to grasp her friend's tightly. 'I'm so scared something will go wrong.'  
  
Concerned, Laura stepped closer to her, wrapping an arm about the younger woman's shoulders. She had her own personal opinion about Marin's child, but was a little shy of voicing it, in case she was wrong and worried her friend un-necessarily.   
  
'I'm sure everything will be as Amata expects,' she said soothingly. 'If there was any reason for her to be worried, she would be, wouldn't she?'  
  
Marin nodded tersely, forcing herself to smile as the children ran past, Beth in tow in her rightful place as the youngest of them. She giggled loudly, waving to her mother as Dugan leant down to sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the front of the group.   
  
'She adores Dugan,' Laura commented, feeling her friend begin to lean heavily on her arm.   
  
Marin lowered herself awkwardly to the bench outside her house, sighing in relief as the cool breeze swept over her.   
  
'It's hardly surprising, though, is it?' she said, wryly. 'He's been a constant presence in her life since the day she was born.'  
  
With smiles tinged with sorrow, they exchanged a glance, Marin's hand going instinctively to her bump as the baby inside moved. Laura found herself staring at the movement, trying to tally the limbs that she could see with Amata's assessment of her friend. Marin's smile widened suddenly as she noticed her friend's stare.  
  
'So what do you think is going on in there?' she asked lightly, startling Laura as the older woman tried to cover her thoughts.   
  
'I wouldn't possibly comment on it,' Laura tried to bluster. 'After all, I'm hardly experienced, and Amata knows what she's doing . . .'  
  
Marin's hand covered hers gently, calming her into silence.  
  
'Laura, I know that you've learnt an enormous amount from all the women here,' she said carefully, watching her friend for any sign of denial of her talents. 'I know that you've been present at every birth since you arrived here, so you're hardly inexperienced. And I know that Amata respects your opinions, especially since you were right about Savy's little one. So, please, tell me what you think.'  
  
Her pleading gaze bore into Laura until she couldn't take it any more, tearing her eyes from Marin's with a guilty blush.   
  
'Well, if you're certain . . .' she stammered, unsure that she should make her idea known.   
  
Marin gave her a sardonic smile, raising an eyebrow to encourage her.   
  
'I know Amata says that the child you're carrying is large and lying awkwardly,' she began, her voice quiet and shy, 'but I've been watching you, and that just doesn't make sense. When the baby moves, I can see the limbs as they press into you, and what I see doesn't tally with Amata's certainty. I think you may be carrying twins, Mar.'  
  
Marin's eyes widened in shocked surprise, followed swiftly by an endearingly joyful smile.   
  
'Do you really think so?' she asked, her voice sounding breathless with excitement.   
  
Encouraged by her friend's reaction, Laura let herself relax, leaning forward to explain her reasoning.  
  
'I do,' she said, 'but please remember I could be wrong. But you seem too big to be carrying just one child, and as I said, I've seen too many limbs moving at once for there to be only one in there. I think that's why Amata thinks the child is lying wrong.'  
  
Marin bit her lip, overwhelmed by the thought of two children at once. Such a birth would be difficult, she knew, harder than Beth's by far, but it would be easier than trying to deliver a breech, or a babe lying sideways in the womb. Thoughts like that frightened her beyond belief. She knew all too well that many women died in childbirth, and though she would be in the best of hands, she did not want to leave her children to grow up motherless, knowing Jack as well as she did.   
  
'I hope you're right,' she murmured vehemently. 'I do so hope you're right.'  
  
A hand slid along her waist to caress the active bump, startling her as Jack pressed a cherishing kiss to her temple.   
  
'Still showing no signs of coming out?' he asked blithely, holding her close as she shook her head. 'Ah well, it'll happen soon enough, love.'  
  
'Hearken unto the expert,' Laura muttered sarcastically, unable to hide her laughter as Jack shot her an indignant look.  
  
'You're spending too much time with that husband of yours, miss,' he said warningly.   
  
'Mrs, if you please, Captain Sparrow,' came the demure reply, and Jack was forced to take most of his wife's weight as she erupted into almost hysterical laughter.   
  
He was about to reply to Laura's quiet comment when he heard his name being called from across the square. They turned to find James and Will advancing towards them, looking very concerned about something or other.   
  
'Afternoon, gents,' Jack managed cheerfully, before Marin's elbow connected with his ribs.   
  
'What's wrong?' she demanded, alarmed by the angry worry in her cousin's face.   
  
James sighed gustily.   
  
'We've just received word that a contract has been taken out on Governor Swann,' he said grimly, nodding as Laura gasped. 'And Devante apparently overheard one of the strangers who came ashore last week asking questions about him. I have reason to believe one of the richer families back in England have decided to remove him from the Caribbean for good.'  
  
Laura had turned pale, clutching at her husband's arm for support.  
  
'Whatever for?' she cried, shocked that anyone could want her uncle dead.  
  
Will glanced at James, seeing his friend's reluctance to admit the truth.  
  
'Because he pardoned us,' he told them. 'And because there has been no attempt to seek out and sink pirate ships around Jamaica since we left for Cape Horn two years ago. The merchants know there is no danger from pirates any longer, but the men who own the trading goods and plantations out here don't. They think the governor condones the acts of piracy that affected their business over five years ago.'  
  
Marin gripped Jack's sleeves.  
  
'You have to go and warn him,' she told the men, ignoring her husband's protestation. 'Jack, I know you want to be here, but the Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. If anyone can get to the governor in time, it's you.'  
  
Jack held her gaze for a long moment, weighing up what little choice he had. Marin would never forgive him if the governor was killed because of his refusal to go, and he knew he would never forgive himself if he missed the birth again. Forced to choose, he decided his own failure to forgive would be the lesser of two evils.   
  
'Oh, alright,' he sighed, gracing her with a fleeting kiss on the tip of her nose. 'Will you gentlemen be joining me?'  
  
James nodded firmly, not even needing to glance at Laura. Will hesitated for a moment, eyes straying guiltily to where Matthew was playing in the sand.   
  
'We'll look after him,' Laura assured him, making Will's mind up for him with that simple phrase.   
  
He nodded, wincing as Jack raised his voice.   
  
'Mr Gibbs!'  
  
The stout man ambled towards them, tipping his cap to the women with a roguish grin.   
  
'Aye, cap'n?' he drawled.   
  
Jack looked him over, surprised to see his old friend ashore and sober.   
  
'Get the Pearl's crew together,' he ordered. 'We sail on the evening tide.'  
  
Gibbs saluted smartly, just about preventing himself from clicking his heels together. Marin hid a smile. Gibbs was a man who lived by orders, and it was clear how much he had missed them over the past year. The older man made to walk away, but turned back with a look of confusion on his face.  
  
'Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but where are we sailin' to?' he asked curiously.   
  
Jack grinned at him.   
  
'Port Royale, mate,' he told his first mate. 'There's an assassin needs to be taught where not to ply his trade.'  
  
Gibbs grinned again, this time his whole body fairly vibrating with excitement as he ambled at high speed towards the houses to gather together his old friends. Marin exchanged a glance with Laura. They could only hope that the Pearl would get there in time.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Will: 'dera? 'dera!  
  
Jack: Come out, come out, wherever you are!  
  
*suspicious rustling out of sight*  
  
Will: *glances at Jack* That wasn't me.  
  
Jack: Weren't me either, mate.   
  
Will: Ah.  
  
*both move to either side of offending rustling*  
  
Both: 'DERA!  
  
Ildera: *leaps up in fright, stuffing a piece of paper down her top* Ahh!  
  
Jack: What have we here, luv? *reaches out to take paper away from her*  
  
Ildera: *leaps backwards* You put your hand anywhere near my top, I'll castrate you, Jack Sparrow!  
  
Will: Calm down, 'dera, we just want to know what you're hiding from us.  
  
Ildera: Ever occur to you that maybe there's a good reason I'm hiding something?  
  
Will: *smile* Possibly.  
  
Ildera: *eyes glaze over for a moment*  
  
Jack: *tries again*  
  
Ildera: *slaps his hand away*  
  
Jack: Ow!  
  
Ildera: Serves you right. *deep breath* Now, are we going to get on with the reviews or not?  
  
Will: James isn't here yet.  
  
Ildera: *pause* James . . . is . . . coming?  
  
Will: *frown* Well, yes.  
  
Ildera: *turns away, muttering under her breath * All three of them . . . Mary, Mother of God . . . * strange expression comes over her face* Oh God. Excuse me!  
  
*Jack and Will leap out of the way as she bolts for the restroom, scattering the reviews everywhere*  
  
Jack: *gathering the papers* Here we go again.  
  
Will: It's Marin all over again.  
  
James: *unseen* Has anyone seen 'dera?  
  
Jack: She's praying to the porcelain gods, mate.  
  
James: Ah. *comes into view* She dropped these then. *hands over reviews*  
  
*they listen to the sounds coming from the restroom*  
  
Will: We really should get on with these, shouldn't we?  
  
Jack: Could be right there, mate.  
  
James: Druidan54, my thanks for your compassion towards my wife. I shall be sure to pass it on. However, I do not feel that I would be funny as a father. I would like to think that I would be the straong arm of discipline in my household, as my father was before me . ..   
  
Jack: Save it, mate, Beth's already got you wrapped around her little finger and she's not even yours.  
  
James: *sheepish coughing*  
  
Will: Er, Jack?  
  
Jack: Yeah?  
  
Will: It might be an idea for you to duck.  
  
Jack: Wha - Phhhpt! *gos down under a deluge of snowballs*  
  
Ildera: Don't tell me, let me guess - courtesy of SP, right? *reads reviews* Stop trying to get secrets out of me! Honestly, I'm not going to give anything away that might spoil the story, SP.   
  
Jack: *ducking snowballs* I'm NOT cute, I'm just rugged, that's why you like me, luv!  
  
Will: Somehow I don't think that's going to win her back over to your side, Jack.  
  
James: My dear SP, it would be wiser not to let Jack know you're softening towards him. He'll stop making the effort to charm you. And please, accept my sword in return as an act of respect for your continuing feud with Captain Sparrow. *offers his sword - you know, the one Will made for him*  
  
Ildera: What will be will be, SP, just be patient. I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet, don't you worry. *snorts* I'm sorry, I have to do this one for you.  
  
Jack: *looks up from the snowballs in time to have 'dera pour a glass of lemonade over his head*  
  
James + Will: *look everywhere but at him, trying not to laugh*  
  
Jack: Compliments of Sparow's Pearl . . . *bright smile* SP? *tackles SP, ties her up* We need to settle this like grown men . . . or man and woman.  
  
Will: Alright then. Dell-Doo, what a pleasure to see you again! I'm sure James doesn't HATE his nickname, I just don't think he's too fond of it either. But Dugan was certainly touched when we told him about you.  
  
Ildera: He blushed. heather321, I have a surprise for you! But I'm not going to tell you what it is, you'll just have to keep reading.  
  
James: MiseryLovesCompany, I do so hope you are wrong with regards to the next child. I don't think my nerves could stand another male Sparrow.  
  
Will: Ah, you love 'em really.  
  
James: That's as maybe, but I'm dreading their teenage years.  
  
Will: You'll have problems of your own by then. Lucy, m'dear, how are you? Hold on for your surprise, it'll come up in a few chapters time, don't you worry.  
  
Ildera: Ms.Baldwin, you are very lucky Marin didn't hear you say that. And this isn't the end, I just thought I'd give everyone fair warning for when the end was coming.   
  
James: SiLvErFaTeD and Starrika, welcome, and keep reading. I'm fairly certain 'dera would cry if you didn't.  
  
Ildera: Just because I'm a little emotional at the moment, James, doesn't mean that I'm going to cry at everything.  
  
James: No, not at all, 'dera. I quite understand.  
  
Ildera: You do? *tears* That's so nice of you!  
  
Will: Oh for heaven's sake. *tries not to laugh at James' expression as 'dera throws herself into the former commodore's arms* lilitaliandragon, yes, Gibbs can sing, and believe me, you don't want to hear it.   
  
Jack: *wanders back from his conversation with SP* emma436, she's updating, she's updating. I personally can't wait for your response to a little something she's popped in there for you, but anyway . . .  
  
Will: Welcome home, Kai-Sparrow. Yes, she's written more, but be warned, we are nearing the end.   
  
James: 'dera, are you alright now? *leans backwards to look down at her*  
  
Ildera: *sniff* I think so.  
  
James: *innocently pulls out the bit of paper she was hiding to wipe her eyes*  
  
Ildera: No!  
  
Jack: *takes paper from James' hand* Aha. Hold her a moment, would you, gents?  
  
Will + James: *exchange a grin, and wrap their arms around 'dera*  
  
Ildera: Jack Sparrow, don't you dare read that!  
  
Jack: Ah, it's a review from Merrie . . . Hmmm . . . *evil smile* Let her go, boys. *murmurs to the other two*  
  
Will: I don't know, Jack, that seems a bit cruel.  
  
James: *wicked smile* We are only trying to help her become immune to us, Mr Turner.  
  
Will: I suppose so.  
  
Jack: 'dera?  
  
Ildera: *sighs resignedly* What?  
  
Jack: *grins*  
  
Will: *smiles*  
  
James: *charms*  
  
Ildera: MERRIE!  
  
*THUD* 


	25. How It's Done

I couldn't wait for the reviews to appear before posting, so no A/N - sorry!  
  
*~*~*  
  
The carriage bumped sedately along the path up to Governor's House, jostling its inhabitants gently back and forth as it rumbled across the pot-holed road. Governor Swann never ceased to be surprised at the sudden gentleness of his drivers, remembering a time when the coach driver would push the horses as hard as he could, uncaring that his passengers would be black and blue when they clambered out. But then, the whole city seemed to have taken him under their wing over the past year. Since Elizabeth's death, there had been less complaining, less rebellious letters, and more support for his decisions. Lady Rosemary Blythe, his sister-in-law, had rather pointedly made her views known across the city to those who had shunned her niece for the match she made, and there had been no repercussions at all. It was as though the city would remain in mourning as long as he did.   
  
He could no longer watch the harbour with the same sense of peace as before, knowing as he did that even if the Dragon was to glide into dock, the one face he longed most of all to see would not be there. Even after a year, the wound was still raw, and the longing for his daughter to return to him was as deep and heart-rending as it had been the day Will had brought her body home. His only regret was not visiting the island while he had had the chance, to see his grandson, and Marin and Jack, and the daughter they had named for the friend who died to save her.  
  
Lady Rosemary glanced across to him, seeing the haunted look in his eyes that had been cause by a year of worry and care. He had sent the marines to the island, against Captain Gillette's recommendation, to protect those who were left from the dangers that had killed Elizabeth. In his own way, he was trying to make the Caribbean safer for his grandson and young Beth. Personally, Lady Rosemary was of the opinion that you could be no safer on an island inhabited by pirates, with the leaders of said pirates as your parents.   
  
Governor Swann frowned suddenly, peering through the carriage window to the house.  
  
'Weatherby, what is it?' she asked.   
  
He glanced back at her.   
  
'My dear, could you tell me if the Black Pearl is at anchor in the harbour?' he inquired, ignoring her question for a moment.   
  
Confused, but knowing her brother-in-law well enough to know when not to argue, Lady Rosemary dutifully looked out across the harbour, her sharp eyes picking out the familiar black sails that had not graced Kingston Harbour in over a year.   
  
'Why, yes, Weatherby, she is,' she exclaimed, suddenly filled with excitement at the thought of seeing Captain Sparrow and his wife once more. 'However did you know?'  
  
He gave her the first smile she had seen from him in months.   
  
'Because the last time I came home to a house I thought was empty to find the lamps lit, Jack Sparrow was drinking my finest brandy,' he told her, and she couldn't rein in the laugh that bubbled up from inside her.   
  
'So they're at the house already?' she pressed him, her eyes twinkling with excitement.   
  
Governor Swann nodded expectantly.  
  
'So it would seem, my dear.'  
  
As Lady Rosemary leant forward to gaze up at the brightly lit mansion, neither of them noticed the dark shapes that melted from shadow to shadow along the wayside, keeping pace with the bouncing carriage. It was only when these shapes leapt up at the carriage itself, knocking the driver from his seat and setting the horses to a race down the hill, that a cry of alarm escaped either of them.   
  
Four figures ran from the house, staring after the descending coach in consternation. Then one slipped to the precipice and swung himself over, followed quickly by two of his companions. The fourth hurried to where a horse was tethered, riding after the carriage. The house was left deserted as the fight relocated to the road below.  
  
Lady Rosemary found herself flung towards her brother-in-law, who absently reached out to catch her. All the years of travelling in such a manner with Elizabeth had paid off, he realised, as he managed to keep his seat despite the jostling. There were voices above them, those of the men who had taken control of their transportation. It seemed that they were being kidnapped, but for what reason, the governor could not say.  
  
As they passed the bottom of the escarpment below Governor's House, however, there was a cry from the darkness, and three shadows detached themselves from the rocks above them, landing with resounding thuds on the carriage roof. One of them almost missed, his boots flailing for a moment outside the window before finding purchase inside the carriage and dragging him inside. He landed heavily on his knees, grinning up at the governor and his sister-in-law.  
  
'William Turner, what in God's name is going on?' Swann demanded, making no attempt to hide the relief that washed through him on seeing his son-in-law.   
  
Will's presence could only mean that one of the gentlemen on the roof at this moment was Jack Sparrow, a good man in such a situation. Will nodded pleasantly to his elders, standing to lean out of the window and look up at where a struggle was progressing on the rooftop. He could just about make out James, one arm about the driver's neck, and one hand with the reins, trying to slow the carriage. Jack, however, was lying on his back, being punched repeatedly by his adversary. Will drew his pistol, sighting along the short barrel and hoping against hope that he didn't miss.   
  
He didn't. Jack's attacker went flying off the carriage with a roar of pain, clutching his shoulder. Will glanced to the rear, seeing the fourth of their number engaged in a rather pitiful attempt to fight the man Jack had managed to knock off the carriage on horseback. Jack shook his head, blinking erratically, and heaved himself to his knees, bringing the guard of his sabre down heavily on the back of the driver's head. The man slumped, and James kicked him off the carriage, hauling on the reins to pull the horses to a halt. The unconscious body hit the struggling riders behind them, knocking his compatriot off and into a tree. The two men jumped down, as Will opened the door to hand Lady Rosemary down to them. She looked decidedly the worse for wear, glaring at the world in general as the rider cantered towards them.   
  
'Weatherby, I'm never getting in another carriage as long as I live,' she declared vehemently, trying to catch her breath as her late sister's husband shook hands with their friends.  
  
'Governor, we're here to bring you back to the island,' James told him, in a tone that brooked no opposition, despite the blood running from his lip.   
  
Governor Swann frowned, taken aback by this blunt announcement.  
  
'I beg your pardon?' he asked, surprised. 'I've made no plans to do so, and there are many people I would have to inform, not least, Commodore Gillette -'  
  
The rider swung out of his saddle, the moonlight illuminating his wan grin as he stepped forward.  
  
'As Commodore of Fort Charles, Governor Swann,' Evan Gillette said calmly, 'I am asking you to place yourself in the protective custody of these fine gentlemen until further notice.'  
  
The governor stared at the younger man, whose grin hadn't slipped once. Lady Rosemary, on the other hand, had picked up on his wording.   
  
'Protective custody?' she repeated. 'Who does he need to be protected from?'  
  
Gillette's face grew serious.  
  
'Assassins, ma'am,' he told her. 'Sent from England to remove your brother-in-law from office. Permanently.'  
  
She gasped, shocked, and turned to stare in accusation at Swann.  
  
'What have you done?' she demanded.   
  
He held up his hands, mystified.  
  
'For once in my life, Rosemary, nothing,' he insisted. 'I swear I have done nothing to deserve this.'  
  
'Except pardon two of the most famous pirate crews in the Caribbean,' Will mentioned. 'I imagine that won't have gone down well with the ruling families.'  
  
Jack snorted.   
  
'Oh, it'll have gone down,' he chuckled. 'Like a hot lead balloon.'  
  
The governor had turned pale, his limbs shaking with shock.  
  
'They want me dead?' he breathed, feeling suddenly quite ill. 'What can I do?'  
  
'You can come back with us and stay for a few months,' James told him, 'until the commodore has everything under control.'  
  
Lady Rosemary nodded, obviously understanding far more than the governor. Jack was impressed that she hadn't even attempted to faint yet, as many women would have by now. Mind you, not many women he knew would.  
  
'I'm sure I can find someone to take me in for a while,' she said, apparently not seeing the sudden amusement on the younger men's faces. 'Just until everything dies down.'  
  
Jack wrapped her arm about his, patting her hand gently as Will snorted loudly, trying to gain control of himself before he alerted anyone to their presence.  
  
'My lady, you're coming with us whether you want to or not,' he said sweetly.  
  
Lady Rosemary smiled in relief.   
  
'Do you know, I was hoping you'd say that,' she sighed. 'Now, when do we leave?'  
  
'As soon as we reach the Pearl, my lady,' James told her, grasping the governor's arm and pulling him beneath the trees as Will ushered Lady Rosemary into the shadows. Jack exchanged a nod with Gillette, who swung back up onto his horse and rode off towards the town as Jack stumbled into the shadows to join his companions.   
  
'Right,' he muttered, glancing nervously into the darkness around them. 'The longboat will be waiting for us in Dead Man's Cove, beneath the -'  
  
He glanced at Lady Rosemary.  
  
'The corpses, Captain Sparrow, I know exactly where you mean,' she assured him, rising another notch in his esteem.  
  
James frowned.   
  
'How can we get out there?' he asked. 'We'd be better to go back to the harbour, Jack. The cove is completely cut off.'  
  
Jack's grin was just visible in the shadows, as was Will's.   
  
'Not quite cut off, mate,' Jack told him. 'We can get out there, if you don't mind getting your ankles wet. And the harbour will be crawling with our violent friends even as we speak.'  
  
'There's a causeway?' the governor asked.  
  
Will nodded.  
  
'How else do you think we're able to get in and out of Port Royale unseen?' he chuckled softly. 'Anchor the ship off the headland, out of sight, row a longboat to Dead Man's Cove, and walk into the city without a backward glance.'  
  
James found himself grinning.  
  
'It's just as well you waited until Gillette had gone before mentioning that,' he murmured, receiving Jack's look of indignation with amusement.  
  
'What do you take me for, a complete fool?' he exclaimed. 'Look, we need to get moving.'  
  
With that, he turned and slipped into the shadows. Will grasped Lady Rosemary's hand, tugging her along behind him as James followed with the governor. They crept down through the woods that lined the shore, keeping to the deepest shadows except where they had no choice. They all knew the men they had fought off would be out looking for them, and if they really were trained assassins, they would damn hard to beat.   
  
The little group approached the rocks cautiously, Jack and Will moving ahead to make sure their way was safe enough to take the lady and the governor along. The three left to wait in the shadows heard Jack laugh triumphantly as he returned to them.  
  
'Perfect conditions for the crossing, lady and gents,' he told them. 'If you'd just step this way, Master William Turner shall lead you to the promised vessel.'  
  
The water was cold, reaching to their mid-calves in lapping waves that made their skin creep. Heedless of protocol or propriety, Lady Rosemary had hitched her skirt up to her knees, carefully tucking her shoes into the voluminous folds as she ventured into the water. The creaking of the by now ancient skeletons above them grew steadily louder and louder, until a voice cut across the low winds towards them.  
  
'Ahoy, cap'n!'  
  
Jack grinned, lengthening his stride to brush past his companions and help Gibbs draw the longboat ashore. They helped the governor and his sister-in-law into the rocking vessel, letting James and Will leap in and take their place at two of the oars. With a shove, and a leap that showered the boat's occupants with sea water, the two men set the boat adrift, scrambling to add their strength to the oars as they rowed out to the Pearl as she waited in readiness at the mouth of the harbour.   
  
'And that,' Jack panted between pulls on his oar, 'is how it's done.'  
  
*~*~*  
  
And thanks to Dell-Doo, you're getting two chapters! 


	26. Two Jack Sparrows

The Black Pearl crested wave after wave, drawing closer and closer to the island her crew now thought of as home. Thoughts turned to family and friends, to what could have happened during their week long absence. Jack, personally, was hoping something hadn't happened, but knew in himself there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He glanced down to the main deck where Gibbs was dancing with Lady Rosemary, Solomon's pipe winding a melody around them too complex to follow. Near them, Harry was talking with the governor, keeping a smile on the old man's face that his sister-in-law had assured them had been sorely lacking this past year.  
  
Will stood at Jack's shoulder, his eyes fixed on the village that stood near the shore of their island home. He could see the people moving back and forth between the houses, their excited reactions as they recognised the ship pulling into their little natural harbour. Jack chuckled as the children tumbled down the sandy shore, halted in their assault on the ship only by the lapping waves that lined the beach.   
  
The ship was carefully anchored and made secure, the men piling into the longboats to row to shore and greet their families. Jack and Will were among the first to jump out, kneeling to gather their children into their arms with joyful shouts. As James helped Lady Rosemary from the longboat, Beth wrapped her arms tightly around her father's neck, laying her head on his shoulder.  
  
'Miss's you,' she muttered into his ear, and Jack felt his heart melt all over again for her.   
  
He brought his head back to touch his nose to hers.   
  
'Missed you, too, sweetheart,' he promised, kissing her cheek gently.   
  
There was a low sigh from behind him, and he turned to find Governor Swann watching them with a look that was half-grief and half-joy.   
  
'Jack, she's beautiful,' he managed, saved from tears as Beth screwed up her face at Matthew, who in turn stuck his tongue out at her.   
  
Amid the laughter as Will wrapped a hand over his son's mouth, and Jack tapped his daughter on the nose warningly, he asked softly,   
  
'May I hold her?'  
  
Jack didn't need asking twice, moving to hand his daughter to the man whose daughter she was named for. Beth, somehow sensing that it was important she behaved, let herself be transferred, settling into the governor's arms comfortably.  
  
James heard his name called, turning just in time to catch Laura as she flew into his arms. She drew back almost immediately, though, kissing him absently as she peered into the press of people around Jack and the governor.   
  
'Where's Jack?' she asked him, and he paused, taking in her flushed cheeks and wild expression.  
  
'In among them,' he told her, helping his wife to push through the people.   
  
As they did so, James took the opportunity to look carefully at their welcoming party. They were smiling, joyful, but there was anxiety in there, a sense of waiting for something to happen. And if they knew what was going on, why hadn't they told Jack?  
  
Lady Rosemary's eyes lit up with joy on seeing her daughter.  
  
'Laura, how wonderful to see you,' she exclaimed, moving forward to embrace her.  
  
Laura deftly avoided her outstretched hands.  
  
'Hello, Mother,' she said absently, grasping Jack's sleeve to turn him to face her. 'Jack, you're needed.'  
  
The captain looked down at her in surprised confusion.  
  
'For what, love?' he asked, aware that a tense silence had fallen over the people gathered around them.   
  
And above that silence, he could hear a very familiar voice, crying out in pain. His heart slammed in alarm, the blood draining from his face.  
  
'Marin!'  
  
He hurried through the crowd, Laura at his heels, both of them increasing their speed to reach the little house where he and his wife had made their home in good time. As they approached, he could hear Marin's cries all the more clearly, and Amata's soothing tones cutting across it. Jack slowed abruptly, pushing the door open to stare in silent alarm at the scene.   
  
Marin lay on the bed, her knees brought up, her face flushed and sweaty as she writhed in the throes of her contractions. Ripples played across her swollen belly as Amata gently passed a cool water cloth over her young friend's forehead. She glanced up as Laura pushed past Jack to sit on Marin's other side, slipping her hand into her friend's and managing to hide the wince as Marin's considerable strength was demonstrated on her fingers.  
  
Slowly the contraction passed, and Marin relaxed, turning her head towards where Laura was gently stroking her hair from her face. A sob escaped her, a single tear slipping from her eye to mingle with the sweat that soaked the sheets already.  
  
'I can't,' she cried brokenly. 'I can't . . .'  
  
Jack felt his heart break for the pain his little wife was suffering, unable to prevent himself from moving to take the place Amata vacated swiftly.  
  
'No, love, no,' he whispered, his own voice hoarse from the shock of what he had just seen. 'You can.'  
  
Marin's eyes flew open and she stared up at him, trying to calm herself. Reaching up, she ran her fingers gently across his cheek.  
  
'You're here,' she murmured. 'I kept hoping you would be.'  
  
Jack smiled tenderly down at her, kissing her fingers where they lay against his lips.   
  
'Aye, I'm here,' he confirmed. 'And I'm not leaving you at such a time ever again.'  
  
Whatever she had been about to say was lost in a sudden cry of pain, as another contraction took her over. At a loss for what to do, Jack bent to kiss his wife's temple, holding her hand and stroking her hair, murmuring sounds that could be encouragement, could be comfort as she battled her way through the pain. As it passed, Amata rearranged things, explaining as she did so that it would be easier for Marin to give birth. Jack found himself sat on the bed, behind Marin as she was perched on the edge of the bed, her back pressing against his chest as he reached forward to entwine his fingers with hers. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, knocking his hat from his head as he rested his cheek against hers.   
  
'This is so much harder than last time,' she gasped, trying to regain her breath in the increasingly shorter gaps between contractions. 'It hurts so much mo - Jesus Christ!'  
  
Her hands tightened on his as yet another contraction wracked her body, and it was with intense relief that she gladly obeyed Amata's order to push. This time, there were no cries, no shouts of agony, as Marin concentrated her entire being on giving birth to the child in her womb.   
  
Jack held her as tightly as he dared, willing it all to be over. He'd had no idea the actual act of giving birth was so exhausting, despite the number of times he'd dealt with nervous fathers waiting for news of their wives and children. But then, he had made himself a part of this, and in doing so, had given another part of himself to Marin, suffering with her for their son or daughter. And he realised that Marin was also giving of herself to him. There had been a time when she was shy of him seeing her any way other than as normal, smiling and happy. That had slowly changed over the past two years, culminating in this moment. This was when his beloved wife was most vulnerable, most in need of his protection, and he hadn't been there the first time around. Such a desertion would never happen again.   
  
Suddenly Marin relaxed back against him, laughing weakly, and Jack realised that it was over. Laura held a squirming, wailing bundle in her arms, grinning down at her friends proudly. Then Amata glanced back at Marin and swore. No matter what language it is spoken in, a curse will always sound like a curse.  
  
'What?' Jack demanded. 'What is it?'  
  
Amata ignored him, gesturing for Laura to join her. The younger girl carefully placed the baby into Beth's old crib, and moved to kneel with her tutor. She glanced up at Jack and Marin, sharing a secretive smile with the exhausted mother.  
  
'There appears to be another child, Jack,' she told him, committing the look on his face to memory so that she could recreate it for Marin later.   
  
'Two?' Jack gasped, overwhelmed.  
  
The second birth was over in a matter of minutes, the afterbirth dealt with swiftly and Marin carefully lifted up, into the bed where she relaxed bonelessly against the pillows. Amata and Laura exchanged proud smiles as they moved to hand the twins to their parents.   
  
'You have a girl,' Amata laughed as she placed the tiny girl in Marin's arms.  
  
Jack's eyes were wide as the other child was laid in his arms, staring down at the newborn in mute astonishment.   
  
'And you have a son,' Laura murmured, suppressing her laughter as Jack turned to meet Marin's eyes, the pride fairly bursting from his expression.   
  
'Two,' he murmured, adjusting his grip on his son to wrap an arm around Marin's shoulders. 'Why didn't you tell me?'  
  
She shrugged, giving him a weary smile.   
  
'We weren't sure,' she said, her voice cracking from the strain it had been under all afternoon. 'I didn't want to worry you.'  
  
Jack gave her a flat look, ignoring the women's giggles as they left the little family to it.  
  
'Love, I remember the last time you tried not to worry me,' he said acerbically, and suddenly grinned as the tiny boy in his arms yawned widely. 'I think these two need their beauty sleep.'  
  
Laughing, Marin watched as he laid the two gently beside one another in their sister's old crib, before returning to wrap his arms around her tenderly.   
  
'I love you, Mar,' he told her, kissing her lightly as she burrowed into his embrace.   
  
Marin sighed softly, a happy smile on her weary face.   
  
'I love you,' she murmured, jolting herself awake with a sudden thought. 'What are we going to call them?'  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow, looking every bit as blank as she felt. They hadn't ever discussed names, not even for Beth, although their eldest's name had pretty much been picked for them.   
  
'I dunno, love,' he said, groping for names that suddenly he couldn't remember. 'Eleanor?'  
  
Marin screwed up her nose.  
  
'No, I don't think so,' she yawned. 'How about Hanna?'  
  
Jack shrugged.   
  
'It's a possibility,' he conceded. 'But I've always had a fondness for the name Katelise.'  
  
Marin made a face at him. Much as she loved her husband, she did not want her daughter to be named after one of his former lovers.  
  
'Maybe not Katelise,' she said thoughtfully. 'Katherine?'  
  
The grin that lit up her husband's face told her that one half of their problem had been solved.   
  
'Katherine Sparrow,' he murmured proudly. 'Kit Sparrow. Sounds good.'  
  
'Kit?' Marin repeated incredulously.   
  
Jack made a non-committal sound.  
  
'Well, every child has to have a nickname,' he said off-handedly. 'What about her brother?'  
  
'There's a tradition that the firstborn son is named after the father,' Marin began, but was cut off by Jack's flat refusal.  
  
'Not a chance, love,' he insisted. 'We are not having two Jack Sparrows in this family.'  
  
Marin couldn't quite manage to hide her grin.   
  
'Why ever not?' she asked him, amused by his sudden decisiveness.   
  
Jack appeared to be groping for a reason.   
  
'Well . . .' he paused. 'Well, supposing he grows up to be a pirate, right? And he gets command of his own ship. There'd be TWO Captain Jack Sparrows on the seas. It'd get confusing for whoever we attack.'  
  
Marin nodded slowly, grinning from ear to ear.   
  
'Oh no, we couldn't have that,' she agreed solemnly, laying her head back down on his shoulder now he'd stopped moving around. 'What about John, then? Or Jonny?'  
  
She felt Jack nod, and found herself suppressing the wave of victory that rose within her. She managed to name both children to her own approval.  
  
'Jonny I can live with,' he said gently. 'I could be proud of a son called Jonny.'  
  
Marin smiled, about to tease him some more, when the door of their house gently swung inward. A little anxious face peeked around the wood, looking up worriedly at the pair of them on the bed.   
  
'Mama?'  
  
Marin heaved herself upright, holding her arms open as Beth suddenly shot into the room, throwing herself into her mother's arms. Jack grinned as Marin held their eldest daughter close. He had a feeling this scene was going to be repeated many times over.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Anyone fancy leaving a review? 


	27. Pirates, Ye Be Warned

Chapter 27. Pirates, Ye Be Warned  
  
The sun shone down on the little island village, illuminating the domestic scenes that coloured the beach and trees. By the shoreline, Jack, James and Will could be seen devoting their time to the children, spending much of it on the floor in their capacity as human mountains to be climbed. Marin laughed softly, Laura by her side as they watched the rough and tumble game play out. James went rolling arse over tip in the sand as a concerted effort from Kit and Johnny sent him flying amidst their hilarity.   
  
In the four years since the twins had been born, the village had thrived, settling into a close-knit community of friends and family. Those who had the wandering urge had been pressed into trading groups or fishing fleets, keeping them sated with the lure of the sea but still somehow chained to the island and those they loved. Jack had become the leader of these unofficial trading companies, working on behalf of Will, who often sent him to Port Royale with a shipment of weapons, or domestic appliances, to be sold. And he always came back with a good price.   
  
Ana Maria was a regular visitor to the isle, as were Ioade and her crew. Their new ship of the moment, the Seawitch Queen, had caused a great hoohar when she first came in sight of the island. She had flown no identification at all, and as a result almost got one of Jack's fizzing mortar grenades on her deck. They were only saved by Gibbs' complete lack of skill in aiming. Ioade had been furious, accusing Jack of trying to blow up yet another one of her ships, and had had to be quickly distracted with the burden of holding one of the twins while Marin had a word with her husband. Kate had been bestowed with Kit, and had soon found herself surrounded by all the children, who were in awe of the woman who could make Captain Sparrow cower just by looking at him.   
  
Laura glanced across to the village square, where a promising partnership was coming into bloom. Dugan, now at the ripe old age of nineteen, had never gotten over his fascination with the willowy Esperanza, who in turn had not spurned his attentions as they increased. For herself, she had blossomed into a slender Spanish beauty, and his dark Scots looks complemented hers as they walked together. Still, they enjoyed one another's company, and were often seen walking together, especially now that Devante had found himself work alongside his father and had no time to spend with them, and Harry was fending off the attentions of certain of the other young girls as he moved out of his own awkward age and into manhood.   
  
The children were the life and soul of the island, everyone agreed, and it was good that they were allowed to be seen and heard, sometimes very clearly indeed, rather than shut away and taught manners. Young Matthew had been accepted into the ranks of the pirates at the tender age of four, and was capable of telling jokes that made even Marin blush. Beth, on the other hand, was not in the least bit inclined towards being a pirate, and spent her time with her mother or Amata, following orders such as 'pass me that bowl', or 'wet that cloth and wipe his brow for me'. Laura's daughter, one rosy cheeked child by the name of Vanessa, was still in arms, but proving herself to be a sunny little soul. And the twins . . . well, they idolised their parents, obeying them swiftly at the slightest comment, and longed for the day they could sail with Jack to Port Royale and see all the places they had been told about.  
  
And soon there would be others to join their ranks, Marin thought to herself, watching from the corner of her eye as Laura rubbed a protective hand over the expanding bulge of her waistline. She was extraordinarily pleased for her cousin and his wife, especially since she knew how they had longed for even one child. It just wasn't the same to play with the other children, and to have a hand in the care of them. And with any luck, this time all should go well for Laura.   
  
They had never told James of the reason for the two months of illness before Anna's birth that had seen his wife bed-bound, deeming it too cruel to tell him of the loss of his unborn child. Even Laura had been unaware of it until much later, Amata forcing Marin to keep her mouth shut despite her friend's right to know the truth. When she had finally found out, the news had rocked Laura to her soul, frightening her immensely as she contemplated the chance that she could now be barren. Such a thought was too terrible to dwell on, though, and with Vanessa, and now this pregnancy, her spirits had lifted. It would only be another month or so, and James and Laura would be parents to another child they had longed for, and thoroughly deserved.   
  
Marin smiled, passing a hand over her own waistline as the child within moved restlessly. She seemed to be perpetually pregnant, though she had no complaints. With three beautiful children, and a fourth on the way, Jack had plenty of trouble to keep him busy. And he did need to be busy. He was trying so hard to hide his difficulties, but Marin knew how he longed for the freedom of the ocean, as she too longed for the sea. They had promised themselves, when things had settled and the children were old enough, they would go and explore the places they had only heard about, the Americas, Australia, perhaps even Ireland. It was this promise, and the promise of a growing family that was keeping them both going.   
  
Suddenly, there was a shout from one of the seamen aboard the Pearl. They all looked up, alarmed, to see Michael gesticulating wildly at the open sea, in the direction of Port Royale, his movements somewhat hindered by the presence of his son in his arms. Confused, Marin found herself staring at the vast expanse of water, wondering what on earth could have alarmed her friend so. There was nothing, so sign of any ships or cannon fire. Then she realised what was wrong with her view.  
  
'Tidal wave!' she screamed, her heart in her mouth as she spun to warn her husband and children of the danger.  
  
The wave was moving swiftly, faster than a man could run, and heading straight for them. Jack didn't wait to confirm his wife's cry, sweeping Kit and Johnny up in his arms and shouting for James to grab Beth. Will already had Matthew on his back as James ran headlong towards the shore to snatch up Beth where she was paddling in the shallows. Marin pulled Laura up from the bench where they had been sitting and pushed her into the hut.  
  
'Brace yourself against the wall,' she ordered, and frightened, Laura did so.   
  
Marin rushed back outside, as Jack and Will reached the hut, the other islanders running for their own homes, their own children held in arms as they ran. James struggled up the beach, Beth held close in his arms, but Marin could see he would not make it in time. Terrified, she ran forward as the wave hit, eight feet of salt water washing mercilessly across the little island where they had made their home.  
  
Thankfully it was over almost before it began, leaving debris scattered across the village and beach, and the ships rocking dangerously in the swells as it passed. Jack shot from the hut, his eyes wild as he scanned the destruction around him.  
  
'Marin!' he yelled, his voice hoarse with fear. 'Marin, where are you?'  
  
There was a heap of sand, shells and seaweed up against another of the huts, and it heaved in response to his yells. He fell to his knees beside it, scraping sand away from his wife's weak body as she spluttered and coughed.   
  
'Beth . . .' she managed, clutching weakly at his arm. 'Where's Beth?'  
  
Will had followed his friend to where Marin lay, and now straightened, seeking any sign that James had been washed against a building as Marin had. Behind him, Laura ventured from the safety of the village, the children pressed close to her legs, their eyes wide with shock. A wail greeted their ears, and they turned to find James staggering towards them, Beth screaming at the top of her lungs as she clung tightly to his shirt. Water dripped off them as he crumpled, landing heavily on his knees.   
  
Marin forced herself upright, shivering as the shock of what had happened hit her, and stumbled the few steps to take her wailing daughter in her arms, even as Jack and Will hauled James to his feet. Blood stained his back where a piece of jagged driftwood had caught him, leaving a wide gash for all to see. He grimaced as Will accidentally jarred him, sucking in his breath to avoid crying out in pain.  
  
'Everyone alright?' he hissed, gratefully taking a seat as his legs began to shake wildly.  
  
Jack turned to watch as the villagers ventured out from their homes once more, and the men who had been aboard the ships either waded ashore or loosed their grip on the ropes. In his mind, he tallied their numbers, noting absently that Esperanza was standing in the circle of Dugan's arms even as they both moved to join her family. No one was missing, he realised, relieved, kneeling to reassure his children as the twins suddenly ran from Laura's skirts to hug his knees.   
  
'All present and correct, mate,' he told James, concern for the other man colouring his voice. 'You seem to be the only one who got banged up quite so bad.'  
  
There was the sound of anxious voices behind them, and they turned to find Amata and Esteban pushing through the crowd. Amata fell to her knees beside James, her hands moving swiftly to his injury as he winced and squirmed under her ministrations.  
  
'The houses stand tall still, senor,' Esteban managed breathlessly, in his broken English, kneeling to help Marin stand as Beth pulled herself free of her mother's frightened embrace.   
  
'What about the crops?' Jack asked, his arms still around Kit and Johnny as they clung to him.   
  
Gibbs pushed forward, dripping with seawater.  
  
'We're lucky that plateau's as high as it is, cap'n,' he said gruffly. 'T'weren't touched, and the soil's still good.'  
  
A sigh of relief ran through the men and women gathered about. If the tidal wave had washed across their fields, then not only would their harvest have died, but the soil itself would have been rendered useless. Salted earth did not bear a good crop, no matter what you did. There was the sound of ripping fabric, and everyone glanced up to see Amata tearing her skirt mercilessly to make bandages for James' injury. The ordinary sight suddenly brought a thought to Jack's mind, and he turned to look at Marin in concern, dark eyes taking in her bedraggled appearance, the hand she had placed over her growing bump.  
  
'I'm fine,' she said, holding up a hand to forestall his question. 'We're both fine. What we need to know is what the hell happened?'  
  
There was a tentative cough from the back of the crowd, and Harry slipped forward, one hand clutching a rather large piece of jagged driftwood.   
  
'I think you should see this, captain,' he said softly, turning the board to reveal the words scratched across it in white paint.   
  
PIRATES, YE BE WARNED.  
  
Jack's eyes widened in alarm.   
  
'Bloody hell,' he swore, rising in shock.   
  
He glanced up at Gibbs, who had also seen the sign, and knew his captain far too well. He turned.   
  
'Black Pearl crew, get yer arses moving!' he shouted. 'I want her ladyship seaworthy as soon as we can! Get to it!'  
  
Within moments the men of the Black Pearl were scrambling to obey orders, their counterparts on the Dragon offering their assistance in their task. Marin rose to stand beside Jack, slipping her hand into his. He glanced down at her, recognising the look on her face.   
  
'No,' he said firmly.  
  
She glared up at him.   
  
'Why not?' she protested. 'I haven't been off this island in six years, Jack. I want to come.'  
  
'It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore though, is it, love?' he told her gently. 'And who would look after the children while we're both gone?'  
  
Her lips set in a firm line.   
  
'Then they'll come with us,' she said, her tone stern. 'And I'm not going to change my mind, Jack.'  
  
He opened his mouth to protest again, cut off by her hand against his lips.   
  
'And don't even think about mentioning my condition unless you have a burning desire to sing soprano for the rest of your days,' she added, her eyes glinting dangerously.   
  
Jack drew in a breath, paused when Marin's eyebrows rose slowly, and shut his mouth with a sigh.  
  
'Oh, alright,' he muttered, rolling his eyes as his children cheered.   
  
Whatever had happened in Port Royale, they would discover it together, children and all. But Jack couldn't shake the feeling that this would be one of his more memorable voyages.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Hey there, guys! I'm SOOOO sorry this has taken so long, but I've had a hard month or so, and things haven't quite been working out as planned. Still, I've managed to update so I hope you enjoyed it, and I can very nearly almost certainly guarantee that I will do the A/N thing next time! Be well, chaps! 


	28. A Terrible Waste

Yes, I know I've kept you waiting FOREVER - and thanks to ff.net's latest regulations there'll be no A/N to soften the blow - but here it is, the final chapters of Fair Wind Or Foul. It's finally over, chaps, so enjoy and let me know wat you think, 'kay? Oh and apologies to Ariandir for my blatant misuse of her characters.

'Sweet Jesus!'   
  
Jack's voice echoed across the deck as he moved purposefully in pursuit of his youngest daughter. Kit was halfway up to the crow's nest, having slipped onto the ropes unseen a few minutes before. It was only her father's sudden exclamation that drew the crew's attention to her escapade. She giggled down at him, growing serious as she recognised the anger in his eyes as genuine.   
  
'Katherine Sparrow, you stay right there,' he growled, heaving himself up after her.   
  
His rough but gentle hands lifted her from the rigging to hold onto his shoulders, and he slid comfortably back to the deck, feeling his heartbeat return to normal as her feet hit the wooden boards with a dull thud. She was spun around to face her father, his hands firm on her shoulders.   
  
'Don't you EVER do that again, do you understand me?' he snapped, mostly angry at himself for losing sight of her.  
  
Frightened, Kit nodded, tears forming in her big dark eyes. She had never seen her father so angry before, especially not at her, and was quickly coming to the decision that she never wanted to see him like this again. Jack stared into her eyes, seeing her fear, and felt the little voice inside his head - the one that always seemed to sound exactly like Elias - chastise him thoroughly. With a low sigh, he leant forward to gather her into his arms, holding her tightly against him.   
  
'I'm sorry, sweetheart,' he murmured, feeling her sob quietly against his shoulder. 'You frightened me, that's all. Could you imagine what your mother would do to me if you had fallen and hurt yourself?'  
  
To his relief, the quiet sobs suddenly became raucous giggles at that comment. Both twins were more than well-aware of their mother's temper, and had seen her win countless arguments with their father through sheer bloody-mindedness. Kit pulled back, letting Jack wipe her cheeks gently. He smiled softly at his little girl, seeing the resolve and fearlessness that so marked out her mother from other women spark to life in her daughter's eyes.   
  
'Just . . . be more careful, alright, love?' he asked softly, and was rewarded with a sweet smile as Kit nodded.   
  
He let himself smile back at her, watching as Johnny slipped to her side, whispering in her ear. The sweet smile quickly turned wicked, and she giggled quietly, nodding in agreement as they ran together from the poop to join their sister. Mere moments later, there was a shriek of outrage from Beth as her younger siblings tackled her to the deck, tickling fingers going swiftly to work.   
  
Jack chuckled to himself as he stood, watching the antics from the safety of the helm.  
  
'That one's going to be a heart-breaker,' Gibbs muttered, unconsciously echoing his captain's thoughts as he watched his children playing together.   
  
'Well, what do you expect, with such a fine pedigree?' Jack grinned, inwardly pleased to hear his opinion echoed. It meant that he wasn't just being a doting father.   
  
'Sail ho!'  
  
They glanced up, squinting into the sun as Gibbs bawled the answer back to Harry where he sat in the crow's nest. The Australian teenager gestured wildly towards the south-east, where a familiar pair of ships were making their way towards the Pearl. Jack slipped his telescope out, peering through it at the ships.   
  
'Well, well,' he murmured. 'There's a sight I never thought I'd see.'  
  
Light footsteps moved towards him, and he felt Marin's arm slip about his waist.   
  
'What sight would that be?' she asked, curious.  
  
Jack passed her the telescope, shrugging slightly.  
  
'The Seawitch Queen and the Dauntless side by side,' he told her. 'And no smoke or cannon fire.'  
  
Marin pursed her lips. Both she and Jack knew of Kate's hatred of redcoats, and so this seemingly peaceful sailing was a little alarming. Something big had to have happened for Ioade to be able to put a leash on her fiery first mate.  
  
'I'm afraid,' she murmured suddenly, pressing into Jack's arms as he turned, surprised. 'I don't think I want to know what's happened.'  
  
Jack squeezed her close to him gently, his frown deepening as he bent to kiss her hair. It wasn't like Marin to admit such a feeling, but in this instance, he understood it perfectly. Nothing they had seen so far had boded well for what awaited them in Port Royale.  
  
'I know, love,' he said softly. 'But we have to find out, for our own peace of mind, if nothing else.'  
  
She sighed, agreeing silently as they drew closer to their friends' vessels. But as the ships drew closer, it became abundantly clear that they were not sailing side by side in an act of friendship. In fact, their hulls were leaning heavily against one another, the Seawitch keeping the Dauntless afloat. The Navy ship's sails hung in tatters, her masts broken and splintered, holes scattered along her water line. Whatever had happened, Gillette and his crew had been lucky to get away without sinking.   
  
And indeed, the water around the two ships was littered with debris, spread seemingly across the horizon, and all in the direction of Port Royale. The children clambered up onto the rail to look down into the water, pointing out what they recognised. Jack barely heard them, his eyes fixed on a sign as it floated by the hull of his beloved Pearl. Just the sight of it brought an icy chill to his seaman's bones. Will's old smithy sign, battered, blistered, and attached to nothing but the water in which it floated.   
  
Marin's hand tightened on him, and he followed her wide-eyed gaze to a far more chilling sight. Men, women, children, floating face down in the water, their eyes wide and unseeing, their limbs frozen in outstretched poses. Vaguely, he was aware of Solomon and Gibbs pulling his children away from the rail, silently grateful for their presence of mind. A child should not have to see this.   
  
And slowly, drawn by some unknown force, Jack found himself looking up from the death-filled water, to where Jamaica was just visible on the horizon. Where Port Royale should have been clear.  
  
'Jesus, Mary and Joseph,' Marin gasped, her shocked sentiment echoed by all aboard as they took in all that was left of the once great city.  
  
It was as though some great sea monster had risen from the depths of the Caribbean and taken a bite from Jamaica's shoreline. Where once there had been a city, gently sloping up a hill from the harbour, there was now an expanse of muddy seawater lapping tirelessly at the foot of a sheer cliff-face. Even as they watched, a lump of masonry from a crumbling house that teetered right on the edge of the cliff fell, crashing into the water with a resounding splash. The fort was gone, the taverns and brothels, even most of the more upper-class residences were no more. Governor's House was nowhere to be seen.   
  
The water was littered with the same debris as before, barrels, books, bodies. The occasional hull of an unfinished fishing boat floated past. An eerie silence hung over the bay, broken only by the sound of the incessant waves lapping mercilessly against rock and timber. Jack felt small hands wrap about his leg, and glanced down to find Beth clinging to him tightly, silent tears running down her juvenile face. The sight choked him, and he knelt to hold her gently, seeing the twins move to comfort their mother as she fought to hold back her own tears.   
  
'The poor bastards,' Gibbs muttered hoarsely.   
  
He reached up to pull his cap off, copied by many who wore their heads covered aboard as they stared out across the death-filled bay. They waited as such for many minutes, each man sending the souls of Port Royale to their rest in his own private way, appalled by the loss of so many in such a short time.   
  
A familiar voice called across to them from the approaching ships.   
  
'Captain Sparrow! Permission to come aboard!'  
  
Without looking up, Jack cleared his throat, still shocked to his core by what he had seen.   
  
'Permission granted,' he called back. 'And bring your crew with you, commodore. Your lady doesn't look to be able to hold out much longer.'  
  
Gillette gave him a grateful nod, turning to organise his battered crew even as the Pearl's crew prepared to welcome them aboard. Boarding planks were brought on deck, Solomon gathering together those he knew had some knowledge of medicine, as what was left of the crew of the Dauntless struggled on board the Black Pearl. As the planks were drawn from the Dauntless' rails, she gave a groan, and Jack could hear Ioade and Kate giving hasty orders aboard the Seawitch to move her away from the shell of a ship beside them.   
  
Both the Black Pearl and the Seawitch Queen pulled away, leaving the Dauntless to succumb to her fate, sinking slowly beneath the waves to her own watery grave. She had taken injury along with the death of that she had been protecting, and it was only right that she should go to her grave with the city that had been her home for so many years. Port Royale was gone, and the world would not see another city of her like for many years to come.Jack stared out the window, across the calm waters of the Caribbean to where once had been the greatest city on earth. He could not take his eyes off it. How was it that he had spent his lifetime doing as he liked with other people's money, other people's possessions, even other people's lives, and yet here, now, when he had had nothing to do with what had befallen those he had been proud to call friend, guilt spread through him mercilessly?  
  
'What happened?' he asked softly, not bothering to turn and face Gillette.   
  
The Welsh man winced as Marin's gentle ministrations brushed against his wounded arm, almost afraid to speak up, afraid he would be disbelieved.   
  
'You'll think me mad,' he said apprehensively, unwilling to have his sanity called into question.   
  
Jack smiled, a strange, bitter smile that the others in the cabin recognised all too well. Ioade had seen it, Kate had seen it, Marin had even been on the receiving end of it. Jack was facing something he disliked intensely, because he had no control over it. And it was chafing his spirit.   
  
'Mate, I've seen things that would turn your hair the colour of your wig, and make your blood run cold,' he said, his voice low and calm. 'And after what I've just seen, I would be willing to believe the beast of Loch Ness had moved down here and developed a taste for islands. Please, give me something tangible.'  
  
Gillette watched him for a moment, shifting his gaze to meet those of the women sat around him. He saw nothing in their eyes that would judge him, sensing they had all seen things that were not to be believed by a sane man of science.   
  
'We were taking the Dauntless out to patrol the coastline while the Nightingale was refitted,' he began, inwardly bemused by this most ordinary of beginnings to an extraordinary tale. 'There had been a few rumblings a couple of days prior to us leaving, just a slight earth tremor, nothing to be alarmed about.'  
  
'Happens all the time out here,' Kate murmured.  
  
Gillette nodded, swallowing as he tried to organise his thoughts into some coherent storyline.  
  
'We'd just passed Dead Man's Cove when we heard the rumblings come again, only this time much louder and seeming to rise from right beneath the city itself,' he said, lost in his memories of the sound. 'I gave the order to turn back, and in retrospect, that may have been the only reason we survived. As our bow turned to face the harbour once more, there came this almighty crack, and the whole hillside moved.'  
  
He paused, searching each face around him to be sure he was not already taken for a lunatic. Ioade leant forward, gripping his wrist in an attempt to bolster him against whatever he had seen.   
  
'The whole city - well, what isn't left on the cliff-top - seemed to slip into the sea,' Gillette whispered, his face aghast as he saw it again. 'It was so fast. The people were trying to get away, throwing themselves into the sea, trying to lay their boats off the sinking city, but it was too late. Port Royale just collapsed into the ocean.'  
  
Jack's jaw set in a sudden grim line. What a waste, he thought, what a terrible waste of life.  
  
'We didn't have much time to take in what had happened,' Gillette continued. 'The sea seemed to boil around us, as though some great creature were trying to consume us alive, and a great tidal wave came sweeping out of the harbour towards us as the city disappeared. We took it on the bow, but even then, the force of the water was enough to send us reeling out into the open ocean, our masts broken and sails ripped. Driftwood and masonry caught us with the wave, knocking holes in our hull. I'm surprised we survived for as long as we did.'  
  
He slammed his fist against the table suddenly. A cabin of lesser individuals would have jumped, but his audience were hardened pirates. They had been waiting for him to crack.   
  
'We should have died with them!' he cried, hot tears of shame and shock running down his cheeks. 'I took an oath, to protect and serve the people of Jamaica, and I have failed them!'  
  
'No . . .'  
  
Kate's eyes widened as Ioade moved suddenly, to kneel before the distraught commodore. The tawny-haired captain held his hands tightly, forcing him to look at her.   
  
'There was nothing you could do,' she insisted softly. 'What could you have done against a force of nature, hmm? Prayed it to death?'  
  
He stared at her, startled by her acid tongue.   
  
'Such disasters are not of our making,' Ioade went on, 'and we have no power to stop them. We just have to weather the storm and carry on as best we can. There is no such thing as failure, only life and death. And you should be proud that you brought not only yourself through it, but your crew as well.'  
  
Gillette swallowed, surprised that the shame he had expected to feel on being seen to cry by women did not surface.   
  
'You speak as someone who knows, lady,' he said softly, looking down into her eyes with something approaching respect.  
  
Marin coughed suddenly, placing her foot firmly on Kate's boot. The dark-haired woman glared at her.   
  
'Don't get involved,' Marin mouthed, a warning in her eyes against the habitual punishment that Kate handed out to any redcoat in the vicinity.   
  
Her friend swallowed whatever retort she had been brewing and subsided, watching incredulously as her captain flushed faintly under Gillette's admiring gaze.   
  
'I know enough, commodore,' Ioade said demurely, rising from her knees to offer him her hand. 'Forgive me for saying so, but you look like hell.'  
  
Jack felt a brief flash of pride in his old friend as a tiny smile broke through Gillette's guilt and sorrow.   
  
'I feel like it, lady,' he smiled, rising to bow to the others present. 'If you would excuse me, I should like to retire.'  
  
Jack nodded to him, concerned for the Welsh man, even though he did not know him as well as he should. As the broken man passed her, Marin reached out to grasp his arm gently, unsure as to whether she should be asking such a question at such a time.   
  
'Commodore, what of the governor and his sister?' she inquired, her soft voice almost lost beneath the rolling of the ship and the sounds that accompanied it.  
  
Gillette turned eyes wet with unshed tears on her, placing his hand over hers.   
  
'They were at the fort to see us off,' he managed. 'I'm sure you remember how they watch everyone out of the harbour. But even had they been on the hill, there is nothing that could have saved them from the quake. I'm sorry, lady.'  
  
Marin nodded mutely, her lips pressed tightly together to hold in the sobs that welled up inside her. Gillette watched her for a few moments before carefully disengaging his arm and leaving the cabin with barely a glance back at them. Unable to listen to her friend's tears, Ioade rose to embrace Marin, mindful of her swollen belly, raising her eyes to Jack's as she did so. He nodded solemnly, sighing softly as he turned again to stare out at the destruction. It would take many years for the echoes of this tragedy to fade away, leaving only the scarred sorrows of a long forgotten memory. 


	29. On The Trail Of Adventure

Ships came from many miles around, some even from as far as the mainland, to mourn the passing of Port Royale and all who had made their homes within her walls. Even the Caribbean itself seemed to fall silent when they gathered together, smuggler sloop and merchant brigantine, pirate galleon and navy ship, floating listlessly on the tide as prayers were said and hymns were sung. It was a terrible day, remembered by all who were witness to it for the great tragedy that had befallen the island.   
  
But still, life moved on, as life should, remembering the dead and honouring their memory by living as they would have wished. In time, both Laura and Marin gave birth to strong healthy girls, Heather and Lucy, and with the celebration that ensued much of the sorrow was cleansed, leaving them with lighter hearts. It was, of course, only inevitable that such things should happen, and Nature, in her loving wisdom, blessed them with many years of fortitude and happiness.   
  
The children grew and matured, their number growing with each passing year, as those who advanced into the twilight of their lives slowly let go of the life they had loved so much. For every child, there was a story, a tale of love, hate, joy and sorrow, and told with such vibrant enthusiasm for their lives it was truly a wonder to behold.   
  
Matthew Turner grew strong, working the forge with his father to fill the orders that still swept in from across the Caribbean, a credit to the parents who had borne him. Vanessa and Heather were the true daughters of their parents, devoting themselves to domestic skills even in infancy, proving that they would make fine wives someday, if James could ever be convinced to part with them.   
  
Elizabeth Sparrow swiftly out-paced her peers to become a slender beauty, far more at home with Laura's lifestyle than that of her mother, though there was no doubting the close bond between Marin and her eldest. According to Ioade, Johnny was the spitting image of his father at the same age, all gangly limbs and shaggy hair, and his twin was no better, as much a tomboy as her mother before her. Lucy had been graced with a sister no more than a year her junior, and so alike was she to young Emma that it was often remarked that they should have been born twins. Only a few years later, Jack and Marin were blessed with yet another daughter, whom they named Ardell, a cheeky child, full of her father's wit and her mother's guile. And finally, they were borne of a second son, named for the man who had meant so much to them both during their lives - Elias Patrick Sparrow, who even as a babe proved to be as much of a handful as his siblings before him.   
  
Where there are births and deaths, there are also weddings, and here was no exception. The long awaited partnership of one Dugan Fitzroy to one Esperanza Arroyo Callas was finally made public, and a few months later, legal, celebrated universally by the entire island. The two, under the guidance of both Esteban and Devante, built themselves a home near to the copse of trees that no doubt held many fond memories for them both, and, sure enough, were blessed with a son entirely too soon for Amata's peace of mind. Devante, too, caught himself a bride, a young Portuguese girl with a volatile temper. Still, they seemed perfectly suited to one another.  
  
Business on the island flourished under the firm but fair guidance of one James Norrington, who had pulled a shrewdness from beneath his belt that no one had guessed was lurking there. He had dragged the merchants to Jamaica's new capital of Kingston, insisting upon meeting the new Governor, a Captain Henry Morgan, whose name alone was enough to convince the less lawful of the pirates to polish up their ways. When he had first visited the island, he had caused quite a stir, not least among the crew of the Seawitch Queen, who had needed no encouragement to stand by and watch as he greeted his youngest grandchild fondly, despite having never met her before. Ioade had sworn everyone to silence after that day, chafing under the knowledge that her own flesh and blood was now the long arm of the law in the Caribbean.   
  
Jack and Marin were finally allowed to take a back-seat in the affairs of the little island, quickly named Great Cayman by Captain Morgan, for reasons known only to himself, and settled into a somewhat quieter life than they were used to, raising their children and learning once again that a life on land is taxing to a soul in tune with the ocean. It soon became clear that they were both sickening for the freedom of the sea, for the salt wind to touch their skin and the unique feeling of being a part of a whole, at one with themselves.   
  
Even the children felt it, and eventually it turned to their oldest friends to take action. James and Will made arrangements for everything to be taken care of, and together approached the couple with a suggestion. Perhaps if the Sparrows were to take a crew of volunteers and explore regions of the world they had never before seen, when they returned they would be content to be islanders, with the sea just within reach. Marin and Jack jumped at the chance, all but packing immediately for a voyage they had longed for in their hearts. The date for their departure was set, and the whole island turned out to wish them well.   
  
Marin reached up to hug her cousin close, despite the child balanced expertly on one hip.   
  
'How can I ever repay you for this, James?' she murmured, too grateful for words as she smiled up into his eyes.   
  
He gave her a wry grin.  
  
'Just bring yourself and your family back in one piece, Mar, that's all I ask,' he sighed, bending to kiss the crop of dark curls that was little Elias' crowning glory.   
  
'Wise words,' Laura put in, muscling under her husband's arm to embrace her friend warmly. 'You have to come back, if only to tell me everything you've seen and done.'  
  
Laughing, the two women held each other close as their friends moved to surround them, all with wishes of good will and safe journey on their lips. James glanced at Jack, watching as the pirate's mouth worked silently.  
  
'I don't believe I have ever said this, Jim, so make the most of it,' he managed finally, ignoring the now traditional groan and rolling of eyes that accompanied his shortening of the former commodore's name. 'Thank you. With all my heart, thank you.'  
  
James stared at him, his mind reeling backwards to find that Jack was right. Never in their years of friendship had any words of thanks passed between them. Will whistled appreciatively.   
  
'Quick, someone write that down,' he called, interrupted by Jack's hearty slap landing square between his shoulderblades.   
  
'You know, for a eunuch, you're very chatty,' Jack said cheerfully, giving his oldest friend a mocking bow as Will scowled at him.   
  
James glanced down as a small hand tugged on his trousers, into the upturned face of his cousin's youngest daughter. Ardell grinned up at him, proudly showing off her missing front teeth.   
  
'Aren't you coming too, Uncle James?' she lisped, brushing carefree strands of red hair from her face with a filthy hand.   
  
James smiled, kneeling to hug her gently.   
  
'No, Ardell, not this time,' he told her. 'I have to stay here to make sure all your mother's hard work doesn't go to rack and ruin without her.'  
  
She made a face at him, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips as he endeavoured not to laugh.   
  
A cry of disgust made them look up, to find Kit and Johnny grimacing in Beth's general direction. A quick look at the oldest of the Sparrow tribe soon cleared up the reason. The teenage beauty had her arms around Harry's neck and was obviously not the only one enjoying the stolen kiss. Jack raised an eyebrow, marching over to separate his daughter from her prospective beau. Harry flushed guiltily.   
  
'Sorry, cap'n,' he mumbled, managing to both glance at Beth and keep his eyes on the ground at the same time.   
  
Jack looked between his former cabin boy and his daughter.   
  
'I think it's just as well you're not coming with us, Harry lad,' he murmured, softening as their faces fell. 'If you still want each other when we get back, you can have each other. Until then, hands off.'  
  
Harry grinned at him, showing off the devilish good looks that must have captivated the captain's daughter.   
  
'Thank you, sir.'  
  
Beth stuck her tongue out at Kit as she passed her sister, with good reason, since the girl was still making a truly ugly face at her sister's antics. Matthew gave the dark-haired pirate lass a dirty look.   
  
'I dunno why you have a problem with it, everyone does it,' he told her, in an annoyingly superior voice. 'Mind you, with a face like that, I don't think anyone would want to do it with you.'  
  
Kit froze, a look of pure hatred slipping into place on her features.   
  
'What do you mean by that?' she demanded, ignoring her brother as Johnny tried to hurry her along to the longboat.   
  
Uncowed, Matthew looked her up and down slowly.   
  
'I'm surprised anyone even knows you're a girl, dressed like that,' he sneered, with all the arrogance he could muster. 'And there's no way anyone could mistake you for a lady.'  
  
'Matthew,' Will murmured warningly, inwardly amused by this by-play.   
  
The two had never got on, Kit not conforming to Matthew's impression of what a good girl should be like, namely Beth. Likewise, Kit considered Matthew stuck up and boring, and their arguments had echoed around the little village for years.  
  
'Well, she's always looking down her nose at people who love each other,' his son protested. 'It's about time she was taken down a peg or two.'  
  
Kit's eyes had gone wide with angry incredulity.   
  
'Who's she, the cat's mother?' she spat.  
  
Matthew sighed, turning back to face her.   
  
'Evidently,' he said simply.   
  
Kit was nothing if not her mother's daughter, and Matthew went reeling backwards under the force of her slap. He glared up at her from the sand, one hand clamped firmly over his stinging cheek.  
  
'We'll see who's a lady when we get back, Matthew Turner,' she hissed, finally succumbing to Johnny's grasp on her arm.   
  
Her brother winked at Matthew, grinning, and dragged his sister to where their parents were waiting, Lucy and Emma falling into step beside them as they thumped into the longboat just as it was pushed away from the shore. Their friends and family crowded onto the shoreline, waving and cheering as the Black Pearl, sails set and shining in the Caribbean sunlight, set off once more on the trail of adventure. 


	30. Epilogue

James leant heavily against the doorframe, staring out across the sand of his island home. Behind him, he could hear Laura, Vanessa and Heather chattering to one another as they baked incessantly, smiling as his eldest daughter let out the familiar chirp that meant she had burnt herself. He would never have dreamed, before all the pirates, that any of this was within his reach, and yet here he was, a husband, a father, anxiously awaiting the return of his family from the sea.  
  
It had been four years since Marin, Jack, and their flock of little Sparrows had set sail from this very shore, to explore the parts of the world they had heard about but never seen. Beth would be fully matured by now, no doubt a little beauty for her father's delight. The twins could quite easily be fully fledged sailors. James chuckled to himself. Nothing could stop those two if they set their minds to something. And the younger ones . . . Lucy and Emma would be approaching womanhood, he guessed, little sister trailing behind them, and their little brother even further behind her, only six years old and the youngest of the lot.   
  
His smile softened as the black sails came into view, closer than he would have thought in the time that had elapsed. He had no complaints though. He longed to see his cousin once more, and her irascible husband. Turning back into the house as the Black Pearl dropped anchor, he called out to his women.  
  
'They're here!'  
  
Laura's eyes went wide with excitement. She hastily gathered together her things, the girls doing far more of the actual work than their mother, and almost dragged both husband and daughters down to the shore. James laughingly loosed her grip on him, wincing slightly as he settled to a more sedate pace, joined by the blacksmith and his son. Will had aged with grace, as yet showing no signs of the grey hairs that peppered James' head. He shared a grin with the former commodore, both knowing how long the other had waited for their friends to return. Beside him, Matthew walked confidently, probably a little apprehensive of his acceptance by certain of the Sparrows.   
  
Will squinted towards the familiar ship, seeing all the signs of a happy crew, and the grins that were exchanged as something small ran the length of the deck to leap up into a red-haired woman's arms. James snorted, telling him without words that the older man had seen it also. Longboats were pushed out and lowered carefully to the water, rowing slowly towards the crowd gathered on the shore to greet them.   
  
As the first of them thumped ashore, Jack's hat came charging across the sand to where James had knelt to receive his family. He lifted the brim of the battered hat to find a cheeky grin levelled at him from under a mop of red hair.   
  
'Captain Ardell Sparrow, I presume?' he asked, one eyebrow raised.  
  
The little girl giggled, throwing herself forward to hug him as her brothers and sisters piled onto the sand behind her, their parents on the next boat. James rose to greet Beth, but she suddenly glanced past, her eyes lighting up in a manner all too familiar to him, and he only just managed to step out of the way as she threw herself into Harry's arms, kissing him soundly. The young man's surprise lasted only a few seconds before he enthusiastically responded, proving that despite the distance and the time they'd spent apart, there was no way these two were going to be done out of a wedding.  
  
'Put him down, Beth, you don't know where he's been,' a cheery voice declared, laughing at her sister as she moved to hug James.   
  
Another voice joined hers, as full of mirth as her sister's.  
  
'Same goes for him,' she laughed, reaching up to embrace Will.  
  
James and Will exchanged a shrewd glance, trying to work out which of the adolescent girls was which. The dark-haired Kit was easy to recognise, she looked too much like her twin brother for her to be anyone else. But these two red-haired beauties had always been difficult to tell apart. Will made a wild guess.  
  
'Emma?' he hazarded, and was rewarded with another hug.   
  
She shared a shaggy mane of copper curls with Lucy, and their eyes were the same shade of hazel. If anything, you would think that they were the twins. Lucy was the quieter of the two, nodding companionably to her parents' friends as she stood to one side. Johnny was shaking hands warmly with Matthew, the two obviously pleased to see one another. Will saw his son pause for a moment, flushing guiltily, and followed his gaze to where the last two of the Sparrow flock stood, patiently waiting for a space to approach. Elias, still the baby of the bunch, was in his sister's arms as Kit exchanged greetings with some of the faces she remembered from before they left. Matthew was staring straight at her, no doubt remembering his parting words to her some four years before. Will grinned to himself. That was that sorted, then.   
  
He leant forward to murmur in his son's ear.  
  
'Still think she's the cat's mother?' he teased, rewarded with a loud gulp as Matthew swallowed nervously.  
  
'She's beautiful,' he whispered, for a moment unaware that said young woman's twin brother was standing right next to him.   
  
Johnny shrugged, looking her over with a critical eye.  
  
'She'll never make captain looking like that,' he observed, taking in the long dark hair and full skirt. A proud smile curved his lips as he turned back to Matthew. 'But you're right, she is beautiful. What do you expect, though? She's a Sparrow.'  
  
Then the second longboat thumped ashore, and the children instinctively stepped to one side as Jack and his wife walked the sands to where their closest companions and greatest friends waited for them. As he passed his youngest daughter, Jack's hand snaked out to retrieve his hat, throwing a grin down at Ardell as she made an indignant sound. James smiled to see this by-play, pleased that the Sparrows were as happy as they seemed.  
  
That was all the thought he had time for, as Marin ran the few remaining steps to hold her cousin close. Jack found himself on the receiving end of Laura's retaliation, startled by the sheer joy to see them safe that he found in the eyes of his friends and family. Marin drew back to look up at her cousin, tracing the worry lines on his face with a gentle finger.  
  
'It's good to see you again, James,' she murmured.  
  
He smiled down at her, taking in the memories behind her eyes, the air of an old head on young shoulders that she had never shaken off. There were streaks of grey in her lustrous copper locks, and her skin was weathered with wind and sun and sea, and she was still Marin.  
  
'You haven't changed a bit,' he told her.  
  
She threw her head back and laughed herself silly.  
  
'Neither have you,' she said. 'You're still a terrible liar.'  
  
As she stepped away, caught up in Laura's arms as her friend held her close, James found himself face to face with Jack. The pirate grinned roguishly, shaking his cousin's hand with warmth.  
  
'You're looking old, Jim,' he chuckled, ignoring the gasps that issued from those of his children who had heard him. Only the twins chuckled with him, carefully hiding their smiles behind hands that shook from mirth.  
  
James gave him a flat look that swiftly disappeared in his amusement.   
  
'At least I don't look like a pirate past his time, Jack,' he retorted, and Jack slapped his back companionably.  
  
'Nah, that you don't, mate,' he agreed, still grinning as he turned to embrace Will.   
  
James stepped back, looking over his friends and family with a contented sigh. A smile touched his lips as he noticed Matthew Turner making tentative conversation with young Kit Sparrow, and the look on Will's face as he, too, watched the beginning of what could be the rest of his life. The children wandered in and out of the crowd, introducing themselves to those they hadn't met or couldn't remember, with the exception of Beth, who was too engrossed in Harry to even glance up at her father.   
  
And there were Jack and Marin, standing together as they had almost every day for nearly twenty years, looking as much a part of one another as they had always been. There would be much celebration and story-telling over the days to come, but he knew he would always remember this moment. Because this was the moment that Jack Sparrow finally came home.

Okay then, chaps, that's it! THoughts are flying around my head for a third installment, but I do need encouragement, you know . . . Hopefully, I'll see y'all soon! 


End file.
